


Way Back Home

by ByTheDawn



Series: Multi-Chaptered Works [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fallout 3 AU - Two hundred years after a nuclear apocalypse devastated the world, Emma Swan escapes Vault 101, a survival shelter designed to protect up to 1,000 humans from the nuclear fallout. She travels the Capital Wasteland to find the parents who abandoned her when she was just a baby. Her singular focus shifts, however, when she sets foot in a small town called Storybrooke, and meets its dazzling Mayor.</p><p>This work is part of the #500Challenge, written in such a way that someone who has never played the game will still be able to follow along with the world and its characters. For non-players, this is a post-apocalyptic AU. Fallout 3 enthusiasts will find a lot in this fic that they will specifically recognise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the graphic above, made by the amazing [after-world-chronicles](http://after-world-chronicles.tumblr.com/post/83128668208/god-im-soooooo-happy-with-this-one).
> 
> Please note that this fic contains a minor character's death.

  
_The roads are the dustiest, the winds are the gustiest_  
 _The gates are the rustiest, the pies are the crustiest_  
 _The songs the lustiest, the friends the trustiest_  
 _Way back home_

 

Well-worn but sturdy boots scoffed through the dust and sand blown onto the crumbling highway Emma Swan was following. Next to her, tongue dangling from his mouth in a combination of thirst, exhaustion, and excitement, jogged her canine companion Pongo. Ever since picking him up at a scrapyard about a week back, he hadn’t been farther from her side than the necessary distance to modestly relieve himself. He was an added worry—caring about someone, even an animal, made you do stupid things to keep them alive—but Emma would be lying if she said the Dalmatian had not added a joy to her life that she had been sorely missing. 

“I think it’s time we find a place to hole up for the night, what’cha say, boy?” Emma softly spoke to the dog, whose head lifted merrily at the sound of her voice. Tail wagging, he barked once—softly—but still Emma’s eyes darted about to scan the area around her, making sure his enthusiasm had not drawn the attention of anything hell-bent on killing her. She was in Super Mutant territory, after all, and just this morning, she’d blown shotgun holes in the bodies of every member of a party of Raiders holed up in an abandoned church. She couldn’t stand Raiders, and although she didn’t relish killing anyone, those fuckers would do nothing better to her if she gave them the chance. Luckily, she had gotten away with only a shallow cut to her forearm, which she had bandaged somewhat haphazardly due to the placement. Unfortunately, dogs did not have opposable thumbs, so she was still stuck taking care of these things herself.

Pongo’s happy bark had not drawn attention to her position, it seemed, although the upturned truck she now spotted in the distance did not bode well for the future. The backs of these trucks were Super Mutant heaven, and Emma was not relishing an encounter with one of them. Somehow, she always ran into the ones with rocket launchers or flame throwers, and while the quick application of a stim pack did wonders against a shotgun wound, there really was no way not to end up completely messed up when on fire or blown to bits. The yellow brutes were a menace to the Wasteland, and while Raiders were dangerous, they at least were almost always doped up on some drug; Super Mutants were completely present—and very dangerous. Their affinity with things that went ‘boom’ was the bane of her existence.

Increasing the grip on her well-worn combat shotgun, she smirked at the dog, who pressed up against her leg. Yeah, trying to keep him alive added a lot of stress to her life, but it was good not to be alone. She’d been alone for so long, she had forgotten how good it felt to have someone to talk to, to rely on—even if it was just a dog. Ever since she had left the vault she had been born in to find the parents who had abandoned her as a baby, she had made her way through life with only casual acquaintances. 

Moira Brown in Megaton, for example, for whom Emma had done a great variety of odd jobs, and Three Dog, the eccentric radio host of Galaxy News Radio; these people offered her help, were regular points of human interaction for Emma as she traversed the Wasteland looking for clues to the whereabouts of her parents, but they were casual acquaintances at best. If she somehow ended up dead in a ditch somewhere—a very real possibility with the life she was living—they would not come looking for her. They would simple assume—correctly—that she had croaked, and move on to another helper, another project to promote on live radio so random listeners across the Wasteland would tune in.

Emma lifted her left arm, bringing the Pip-Boy 3000 to life. She manoeuvred through the menu easily, pausing a moment on the health tab so she could check her radiation levels before bringing up the map of her local area the device assembled. It really was a wonderful invention, the Pip-Boy—a small computer locked around her arm, able to store audio files, scan the area, compile maps, and keep a close eye on her over-all health. How others managed without it was beyond Emma; she had come to rely on it for a lot in her life. It was one of the only good things to come out of her life in Vault 101—the fallout shelter she had grown up in after a nuclear war two hundred years ago had forced the world’s inhabitants underground.

After being left behind by her parents as they escaped the vault, Emma had been bounced from family to family, never being allowed to stay anywhere for long. She hadn’t really made friends because she was always the odd kid out, and even as a kid, the others—grown-ups included—had thought her odd for wanting to go out, explore, and find her parents. It had taken her a good few years to find out how to get out without getting a bullet to the head for treason, but once she had, she had never looked back. Fuck them, and fuck everything about that vault. Having to hook herself up to a RadAway bag every once in a while really was a small price to pay—although not getting shot at on a daily basis had been quite the blessing in retrospect.

It had taken Emma a while to catch up on the ways of the Capital Wasteland—which was what the survivors of the nuclear fallout had come to call the general area they survived in. She’d been forced to learn to shoot something other than a BB gun, how to take care of the radiation poisoning that came from wading through water or eating anything. She’d been forced to learn about mutated creatures and people and all the ways in which they could kill you, about humans-turned-murderers for profit or fun. There had been a lot of catching up, a lot of injuries, and a good amount of headfuckery… but she had survived, and she was meandering, looking for clues to get her home to her parents.

With interest, Emma took note of the edge of the map her Pip-Boy assembled, and the contours it revealed. Emma had learned to interpret the green lines on the small screen of her Pip-Boy fairly accurately, and if she was not mistaken, that looked like a house—a collection of them, perhaps. The thoughts of an actual bed—or even a half decent couch—that suddenly flooded Emma’s mind made her sigh, and she turned her eyes to the north-east, trying to confirm her suspicions with her own eyes. Unfortunately, the wind was strong today, and this part of the wasteland was sandy enough to throw up dust storms. She was just going to have to head in the general direction of the ping on her electronic aid and hope she wouldn’t trigger any landmines or get snipered. At least this destination kept her away from the truck and the possible Super Mutants in it.

It took her about an hour before she got close enough for visual confirmation. It was, indeed, a small collection of houses. Even now, she came past skeletons of homes that had been destroyed in the years after—or perhaps during—the war, indicating that the town had once been much larger. The road that had once headed into it, however, was gone along with the grandeur the town must have once had, and these destroyed ‘suburbs’ were now infested with Radscorpions that Emma took out with a steady heart and an even steadier hand. 

There was something exhilarating about looking into the multiple sets of beady eyes that fell upon her as the huge scorpion-like critters rushed forward and waiting—waiting—until she could see the glint in them before unloading two shells into their faces and dropping them right at her feet. She had forgotten these animals were living beings; as she drew her knife to cut out the poison glands on their tails, all she saw was mutated meat that would have killed her if given the chance. Pongo was equally jaded; he sniffed the corpses and whined, hoping for something he could eat to attack them next.

By the time she got close enough to make out boarded up windows and hanging laundry, she also became aware of barricades drawn up around the still-standing inner circle of the town, consisting mostly of car carcasses and wooden panelling. Emma licked her dry lips nervously. People struck much more fear into her than the radiation-infested monsters that roamed the Wasteland. Even in Megaton or other civilized settings, she was eternally on high alert. Approaching a small town—obviously occupied—and being herded to a single entry point was stupendously nerve wrecking. Still, she had spent the last week out in the dust, sleeping with her back against a rock or huddled in a ditch, trying to keep one eye open as she slept, and her reserves were wearing thin. She needed at least one good night’s rest before she travelled on. Besides, her parents may have come past this settlement in their travels; it was the right direction, after all.

She stayed clear of the barricade, circling as a precaution and approached the gap in the barrier head on instead of sideways just to show good intent. By the time she got close enough to make out a stop-sign propped up against the wall, she settled her shotgun on her back and threw up her gloved hands, eyes scanning the area before her. It was a simple gap in walls high enough to block out most of the town beyond, although she could see the destroyed top of a clock tower or church spire. No people, but in general, it was a Wasteland survival rule not to be seen.

“That’s quite close enough,” a clear voice rang out, and Emma’s attention was drawn to a brown head of hair and the barrel of a sniper rifle that could just barely be spotted through a small peep-hole in the wall. Emma pulled herself to a halt and swallowed. 

“Good folk here, just looking for a bed for the night, and perhaps some information.” She called out. “My name is Emma.”

“Well then, Emma, why don’t you show us you’re good folk and drop the shotgun along with any other weapon you might be carrying? Once you are done with that, you can tell me where you found that dog.” The voice—deep and melodious—countered, and Emma sighed. Doing as instructed, she secured then dropped her shotgun at her feet, slipped her sword from her back scabbert, and laid that down as well. Reaching down carefully, she pulled a knife from her boot, dropped it, and stood again, eyes scanning the wall for the illustrious ‘we’ the woman had mentioned. Indeed, Emma could see several peeping holes now, several of them with barrels of guns sticking out of them.

“I found the dog a week ago at a scrapyard down south. His owner was dead; Raiders, I think. I came upon a party of them a little up the road and ended their miserable existences.” Emma answered, trying to keep calm in the face of her weaponless state. She’d never felt as naked as right now, with weapons trained on her and nothing to defend herself with. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, but she forced herself to exude a calm demeanour, regardless. The sooner these people trusted her, the sooner she would be safe. 

“Describe the owner.” The voice returned, and Emma sighed, trying to remember.

“Male, curly brown hair, glasses… mid-forties, maybe?” She answered, and for once, the reply was not immediate. 

“Was there a tag on the dog’s collar?” The voice returned, and it sounded positively shaken. Well then, Pongo came from here, it seemed. She eyed her canine friend and sighed. Another one to leave behind; he had followed her of his own free will, but now he was home, he’d probably stay here once she moved on.

“Pongo. His tag says ‘Pongo’.” She answered steadily, and after a moment of hesitation, the barrel was retracted and a woman dressed in jeans, high laced boots, and a leather overcoat, reworked as a blouse stepped out into the opening in the wall, slipping the rifle onto her back. Emma spotted no identifiable signs of affiliation to any association or group—no Raider spikes, no Enclave uniforms, and found herself relaxing ever so slightly. Just regular folks trying to survive in the big bad world.

Pongo’s reaction was the complete opposite of Emma’s; instead of relaxing, he became excited and barked happily, jumping around in place three times before speeding forward. Emma couldn’t suppress a smile as the severe looking brunette smiled indulgently and kneeled down to accept the overjoyed dog into her arms, pressing her face into his flank a moment as she manoeuvred the sniper rifle out of the way. Emma waited patiently for the exchange to be over, and dipped her head when the dog whined for her to join him on his side of the barricade. She cast a pointed glance at the brunette, who nodded.

Carefully, she lowered her hands and stepped forward, figuring her weapons would soon be picked up by one of the towners. The tension between her and the amassed villagers fell away when she breached the gap and pulled herself level with the brunette, who straightened. A young boy with equally brown hair as the woman before her slipped past her and carefully scooped up her weapons before rushing back to the safety of the barricade. Emma accepted the calloused hand the brunette extended and shook it, enjoying the firm and warm grip that had Emma smile as dark eyes captured hers. God, this woman was beautiful, and those eyes seemed to drill right into her soul—and all the way down to her core.

“Regina Mills. Thank you for delivering such sad news on this day.” The woman said darkly, and Emma nodded, grimly, reeling in her raging libido. What could she say? Death was such a casual concept in the Wasteland; every day could be the last, and everyone mourned family, friends, or acquaintances on a regular basis. It was a part of daily life in such a way that it was easier not to put much weight onto it—and enjoy the simple pleasures.

“Emma Swan, and sure, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I take it you knew him? He lived here?” Emma asked, finally dropping the hand in hers, becoming aware of the young boy—around ten years old, maybe—kneeling down next to Pongo and wrapping his arms around the dog’s neck as he mumbled softly to him. It was a touching display, Emma admitted to herself, although kids weren’t really her thing. The others who had previously trained guns on her scattered slowly, talking amongst themselves a little sadly, obviously touched by the news of the demise of one of their own. The only one who remained was a wiry young girl with red streaks in her long brown hair, who leaned casually against the barricade as she turned her gaze outwards, popping gum. Emma didn’t miss the one-over she received though, as she had held onto Regina’s hand a moment longer than necessary. Burying a smirk, she wondered if there had been a touch of jealousy there. 

“His name was Archie Hopper, and he was a good, kind, man. He went out for some parts we were—and are—desperately low on. When he didn’t return the day after, we assumed the worst. Now it’s confirmed and we are still short on those parts.” The woman answered pragmatically, and Emma nodded, focussing back on the brunette. Something in her wanted to lend her help, offer to get the parts, but kindness tended to get a girl killed and she had other things on her mind. She could always offer her help later; she tended to do that way too often, anyway.

“Like I said, sorry.” She answered neutrally, and Regina nodded, observing her a moment more. With a well-contained sigh, Regina’s gaze slid from Emma to the boy on the ground, weapons at his feet and arms still around a very happy Pongo. 

“Henry, say hello to our guest.” Regina instructed, and inquisitive eyes found hers as the boy—Henry—straightened out and righted his back before formally extending his hand. Someone had obviously taught him proper manners. Again, Emma found herself shaking hands with a human being, and Henry smiled at her, automatically causing her to return the gesture.

“Hello, I’m Henry. Nice to meet you. Thank you for bringing Pongo back safely.” Henry vocalized clearly, and Emma marvelled at the way the little boy seemed open and trusting despite growing up in this dystopia. Her eyes flickered to Regina Mills a moment, seeing the woman who was obviously his mother, in a new light; parents who did right by their kids were intriguing to Emma, and she met far too few of them in her journey’s. 

“You’re welcome, kid. I’m sure he’s happy to be home.” She answered, and Henry beamed at her, tugging at her heartstrings. She scoffed, slipping hands into her back pockets. “Soooo… that bed?”

“Yes, of course, well, we have a guest room with a clean mattress and warm blankets that’s yours for the night if you want it. I’ll even throw in dinner.” Regina sassed with a smirk, and Emma realized she really liked this woman. She had a spunk to her that seemed to have been beaten out of many inhabitants of the Wasteland. 

“Sounds perfect, lead the way.” Emma said, crouching down for her weapons and replacing the knife in her boot before straightening and keeping her shotgun and sword in hand as Regina led her, Henry, and Pongo deeper into the circle of houses.

“Welcome to Storybrooke, Emma, let me give you the tour: this is our home, the Mayoral mansion, so to speak; the diner is over there, manned by Granny Lucas and her granddaughter, Ruby; Gold and his wife Belle man our store annex workshop, and our ‘hospital’—” Regina made air quotes around that one, indicating a plain house on the far end of the circle of houses. “…is over there. For supplies, you can talk to Dr. Whale. He’s not really a doctor—more of a scientist—but he can patch up pretty much any wound if you don’t mind ugly scars, and if you are low on supplies, perhaps he could trade you for them—same with Gold.”

Emma nodded, following Regina to the largest and least damaged house in the small community. Following her host’s example, she scoffed her boots on the doormat before stepping inside. The house was immaculately clean—something that was so rare, Emma instantly felt as if she was contaminating the space around her. Even with the care poured into the maintenance of the mansion, it, too, showed obvious signs of age and decay. It truly was unavoidable, Emma mused, after two hundred years. She felt wholly out of place and lingered in the hallway until Regina indicated she should follow her up the stairs.

Henry disappeared into the kitchen, Pongo on his heels, as Emma climbed the lavish staircase up to a landing, trying not to focus too much on the woman’s behind right in front of her—although it was hard to ignore. To cover for her wandering eyes, she broke the silence.

“So, you’re like the Mayor here?” She asked casually, and Regina hummed in acknowledgment. 

“It’s just a title, to be honest, but it keeps the town meetings short and sweet. Everyone gets their say and we all go home.” Regina agreed with amusement lacing her voice. Emma smiled and nodded as if she understood, but growing up with an Overseer had guaranteed she’d never been in a meeting, let alone one where her voice was heard—she was the daughter of traitors; she didn’t matter.

“Sounds good.” She answered vaguely, appeasing her host, who seemed quite smitten with the idea of a guest, even if it was an armed blonde tracking dirt into her home. Regina smiled at her as she stepped aside, pushing open the door to the room at the top of the landing. Emma slipped past her gratefully, stepping into a small but clean room, housing a bed—a clean, perfectly made up, bed, Emma noted as she barely contained a sob of pure bliss—a bookcase with old books and some toys she assumed belonged to Henry, and a wardrobe. It was simple, clean, and almost perfect. Emma suddenly realized that she hadn’t been anywhere this meticulous since the Vault, and she had missed it. All she wanted now was a good scrub, clean clothes, and food—maybe a certain companion to share that nice clean bed with... Everything would be perfect then.

“It’s not much but—” Regina started, but Emma spun around quickly.

“No! No, Regina, seriously. This… this is fantastic! I can’t wait to spend the night with you! Here, I mean, you know, sleep in a clean bed, sit on a couch for once and not in the dirt…” Emma trailed off, suddenly realizing she was babbling and potentially giving far too much away of her non PG thoughts of the brunette woman standing in front of her with an evil smirk. Blushing, she bit her lip, looking up at Regina through a curtain of her hair. “Sorry.” 

“Quite alright, Miss Swan. It’s been a long time since I had a guest, let alone one so… appreciative. Thank you for acknowledging the effort I have put into keeping this home clean and safe for my son.” Regina answered, and dark eyes settled upon Emma’s with such intensity, that Emma wondered for a moment if she may have seriously overestimated this woman’s straightness.

“My pleasure. So, that’s the bed… could I bother you for some water to wash with, maybe?” She asked, putting just a hint of seduction into her voice, causing Regina to smirk.

“The pipes are a little rusty, but they work. Bathroom is next door. I will leave you alone to wash up while I get started on dinner. I’ll see you downstairs.” Regina answered ambiguously, and Emma watched her turn around slowly and positively _saunter_ to the staircase before glancing back one more time and descending. Smirking, Emma shook her head and headed to the bathroom to clean up, and change into her cleanest set of clothes that consisted of army slacks and a white sleeveless top.

Returning to her temporary lodging, she curiously eyed the wardrobe and pulled open the top drawer, smiling when she found a variety of dresses that obviously belonged to Regina, as well as some old clothes of Henry’s that looked too small for his current physique. She was snooping, she knew, but she still ran a hand over the topmost dress, a yellow one with a floral pattern Emma would  
love to see Regina in… and out of. With a rueful grin, Emma shut the drawer and headed downstairs.

“So, what’s for dinner?” She called out by way of announcement, just before walking in. She’d nearly been shot enough times to know that walking around corners unannounced was a bad idea, even though Regina didn’t seem like the type to be easily rattled. The conversation quieted instantly, but as Emma walked in, she was quite sure their interaction hadn’t been about her—or at least not negatively. Pongo was at least happy to see her again, and she smiled as she ran a hand over his head as he pressed up against her legs. She greeted the animal under her breath, and Pongo looked up at her happily, tongue lolling.

Henry was already seated at the table while Regina only just straightened out, having just taken a dish out of the oven—a dish that smelled very, very, good. Emma subconsciously licked her lips as her stomach rumbled. When was the last time she’d had a hot meal that wasn’t iguana bits on a stick, badly roasted over a campfire?

“Well, Radroach stew was on the menu, but you have just become Henry’s favourite person because I have upgraded dinner in your honour. We’ll be having Nuka-Cola squirrel with fresh potatoes and carrots, and I even have a beer for you, if you’d like?” Regina answered merrily, and Emma could see Henry’s excitement for the dish radiate off of him in waves. She smirked. This was going to be very, very, good.

“I think I can safely say I haven’t had a meal like that in months. Years, probably. And I would love that beer, if you’re offering.” She answered smoothly, sitting herself down at one of the place setting at the table. Pongo lay down at her feet, and Henry smiled at her, obviously curious about her and her history. She suspected that beyond the Radscorpions and Super Mutants, nothing interesting ever happened in Storybrooke, so a stranger coming to visit was probably as enticing as his birthday. Emma smiled at him, eyes flitting away as Regina pressed close to her, and she had to resist the urge to wrap an arm around the woman’s thighs and pull her closer. Instead, she moved to the side a bit as Regina begun to scoop food onto her plate that made her mouth water.

“You clean up very well, Miss Swan.” Regina husked under her breath before pulling away with a wink, and Emma could feel the heat caused by a dark voice sear down her body to settle hotly in her gut. Well then, she had definitely overestimated Regina’s straightness. 

“Thanks, and it’s Emma.” She said, mentally adding that Regina could call her anything she’d like. Without thinking, she added a tiny bit onto her comment. “…Savior if you’re playing.”

The room fell silent, and Emma watched as Henry—who had just shoved a freshly delivered bit of squirrel into his mouth—had that bit roll out of it again as his eyes widened to such a degree it didn’t seem quite healthy, and his jaw dropped. Even Regina looked a little shocked. 

Well fuck.

“Y-You’re who the people call ‘the Savior’?” She asked, faltering a moment before recovering enough to sit down. Emma winced.

“I didn’t pick the title, that was Three Dog’s idea, but yeah… I would be the vault dweller who left in search for her parents.” Emma answered awkwardly, stabbing a bit of squirrel and popping it into her mouth. It was good—really good—sweet and succulent, and Emma had to fight not to moan. Still, it was reduced to an excuse not to talk about her identity right quick; she tapped at her food and spoke around the bit still in her mouth. “This is really good!”

Obviously, that was not going to be enough to distract the suddenly uncomfortable brunette, and the boy who was getting more and more excited by the second. Henry abandoned his fork in favour of focussing all his intention on her. 

“No way! You’re the Savior?! The one who disarmed the bomb in Megaton? The one who boosted the radio signal? The one who—” Henry started to rattle off her many ‘accomplishments’, and she quickly reached out to clamp a hand over his mouth.

“Yes, all me, kid, and Three Dog needs to learn to keep his big mouth shut and not make such a big deal over everything I do. I’m not a hero, and I am no one’s _savior_. I’m just getting through the Wasteland, trying not to get killed, or eaten, or both, and like any decent human being, I try to do some good along the way. That’s what you _do_. I know Three Dog thinks the people want someone they can hang their hopes and dreams on, but let me tell you right now, kid, that ain’t me, so just let it go. Pretend I didn’t say anything, okay? I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow and you can talk about it to anyone you want then—just not while I’m still here.” Emma interrupted sharply, and Henry nodded, causing her to pull away her hand. Two sets of eyes hung heavily on her, and she sighed, realizing she was being rude to very generous hosts. 

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long few months and I never asked for all of this ‘Savior’-crap… stuff… sorry. I didn’t mean to curse. God! Okay, I’m just going to shut up, eat this really good food, and you two can pretend I’m not here for a while, okay?” Emma babbled, infinitely frustrated with herself, and leaned forward heavily, resting an arm on the table as she begun to truly dig into her food, refusing to look up. It was Regina who scraped her throat, and–bless her heart—changed the damn subject.

“Henry, sweetheart, after dinner would you perhaps run out to Gold’s store real quick and tell him I need new .308 caliber bullets? Hollow point if he has them, but regular will be just fine. Tell him I’ll pay him once I get back from the scrapyard, and that if he’s worried I won’t make good on that promise, he can—well, let him come to me then.” Regina said delicately, but Emma still snickered despite her mood. It seemed this ‘Gold’ was a hardass when it came to sales and contracts, but Regina wasn’t too worried. Good on her. Henry took a short while to reply, and Emma was sure his attention was still on her. Recalcitrantly, she skewered a carrot and stuffed it into her mouth.

“…Okay, mom. .308 hollow point’s or regular. You’re going out to get the parts?” The thinly veiled fear in Henry’s voice had Emma cringe. 

“Yes I am, we need those parts, and I’m going to see if I can bring Dr. Hopper back, okay? You can stay with Ruby until I get back. Hey, why the long face, my little prince? I’ll be back in a day. You heard Emma, she took care of all the Raiders on the way. I’ll be just fine, I promise.” Regina said, and Emma sighed, her guilt finally overtaking her. What the hell kind of ‘Savior’ was she if she allowed a mother to go out there alone while her ten year old waited for her at home. Yeah, no. After her spiel about being a decent human being, she couldn’t allow another child to be separated from his mother—even just temporarily.

“Yeah, kid, she will be.” Emma finally looked up, and two sets of eyes fell on her again, both curious over her firm tone of voice. “…because I’m going with her, and I promise, I’ll do anything I can to bring her back safe and sound.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! For anyone who has ever read any of my work, this cannot come as a surprise to you ;-)

Henry was up from his chair in seconds, filling her automatically welcoming arms with his little body. He pressed himself into her as he repeated ‘thank you’ over and over again, and after a moment of being frozen with indecision, Emma mellowed her body and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close for a long moment as a smile came to her features. 

“You’re welcome, kid.” She answered softly, and held him close in their awkward position for a few seconds more, then she released him and—thankfully—he released her as well. She met his dark eyes and winked at him, ruffling his hair. “Now eat your food before it gets cold.”

By the time Henry was seated again, Emma dared to meet Regina’s eyes, finding a mixture of anger and genuine surprise in them. Emma bit her lip.

“What?” She asked, and Regina realized she’d been caught staring, focussing back on her food right away.

“I can take care of myself, Savior.” The brunette huffed, her tone landing somewhere between defensive and outright spiteful, but Emma had seen the emotion in dark eyes, and she knew Regina was touched by her offer—although she was probably also genuinely offended.

“Never said you couldn’t. I’m doing this for the kid; it isn’t fun to be away from your parents… I should know. I’m just going along for the walk. No harm in being a little over-prepared.” She placated the brunette, who huffed and shook her head.

“Fine.” She said, and Henry smiled brightly before settling down for his food—something they all did, happily. 

Half an hour later, Emma took the remnants of her beer into the living room as Regina shoed her out of the kitchen so she could clean the dishes she refused to let Emma help with. Henry—reluctantly—left the house, leaving Emma with Pongo as he settled at her feet again when she sat down on the couch.

“So, I take it you’ve found a home here, huh, boy? Can’t say I blame you. Good kid, beautiful woman… you and me, we don’t deserve something like that, now do we? Well, maybe you do. You’ll be happy here, I’m sure. They’ll take good care of you.” She rubbed him under the jaw, smiling as he licked her wrist with exuberance, tail wagging. “…I’m going to miss you though. You were a good friend, and a really good companion. I’d take you with me, but what kind of friend would I be if I kept you from your home? Especially one as nice as this one… yeah, that’s right. A really crappy one.”

Sighing, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his head, dodging his tongue as she did so. She stood and headed upstairs, riffling through her bag for a RadAway pack and some tubing and taking it downstairs with her. She flopped herself back onto the couch and Pongo stretched himself out onto her booted feet, sighing happily as Emma fidgeted with her Pip-boy a moment and found her health menu. Some RadAway surely wouldn’t go amiss; her radiation levels were already in the yellow.

Biting her lip, Emma unwrapped the tube from the medical pack, filled with a saline solution and whatever it was that cleared her of her advancing radiation poisoning. She’d been terrified of that radiation once, but now the warning signs of early onset radiation sickness hardly phased her. She had grown to interfere with the process only when her hands became jittery and her vision blurry. Her eye-sight was still fine, but she wasn’t going to risk Regina’s life on the premise her hardening body would continue to be fine tomorrow. With a good night’s sleep ahead of her, she’d rather empty the RadAway pack into her arm tonight—slowly—instead of squirting it into her vein while on the road, huddled away against enemies she was suddenly too bleary-eyed to see.

It had taken some getting used to, to tie off her own arm with surgical tubing, uncap the needle attached to the tube that ran into the bag of chemicals, and slide it into the vein on the inside of her elbow. Back in the Vault, radiation wasn’t an issue—that was what the damn things had been built for, after all: protect its inhabitants from the fallout of a nuclear war—but out here in the Wasteland, knowing the basics of ‘do it yourself’-radiation treatment was essential, and it was a skill Emma had picked up relatively quickly.

Trapping the bag between her shoulder and chin, she undid the tubing around her upper arm and watched the yellow liquid descend into the tube. The first few seconds of icy cold chemicals spreading into her arm—despite the liquid itself being room temperature—were always the worst, and she braced herself for the experience. She still winced as it happened, and bit her lip at her body’s initial panicky reaction, causing her to sweat and shake for a minute or so before it cleared. She took a deep, steadying, breath, and settled in for the waiting game, listening to the sounds from the kitchen as a distraction. 

When Regina emerged a few minutes later with a tray in hand, she took a quick look at Emma, who smiled encouragingly. She smiled in return, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“Would you like me to leave you alone for a moment?” Regina asked, her voice easily betraying that this was a part of the Wasteland life Regina tended to take part in in private—or perhaps at the clinic—but Emma shook her head. 

“If you don’t mind the sight, I’d like the company. I have something to ask you, anyway.” Emma answered, and Regina nodded, taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch. 

“Tea?” She asked, and Emma nodded, taking in the teapot, cups, and plate of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes that Regina had set out. Despite having been full minutes ago, and a little nauseous from the chemicals that were slowly dripping into her system, her mouth watered. Sugary goodness was always appreciated. She blamed her upbringing: very few of the families who had taken her in in the Vault had felt the need to take care of her beyond the basics. Junk food had never been on the menu for her, except for perhaps a birthday, but even then, she’d had to fight some of the other vault kids to keep it. 

“Yeah, thanks. Hey uhhh… I’m sorry for my blow-up at the table. I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just hard, you know? People expecting things from you? I’m not a savior, I’m just me. Still, I shouldn’t have lost it, and I’m sorry.” Emma started, getting that out of the way. Regina regarded her a long moment, and nodded slowly.

“It’s alright, Emma. Perhaps, though, you would consider a bit of advice? Three Dog—as much as I loath that man and my son’s incessant need to listen to his show—was right when he said that the Wasteland could use a hero. You might not really feel like one, but you’ve done some very good deeds, and in this God forsaken world, that means a lot—more than you know, perhaps, having grown up away from all of this.” Regina said, making a hand motion that pressed on Emma that she meant not just Storybrooke but the whole of the Wasteland beyond. Emma sighed.

“Yeah, that’s what Tree Dog tried to tell me. Doesn’t mean I like it any more than I did before. I left the Vault to find my parents. Everything else comes second to that. I do it because it’s just what decent human beings do.” Emma said, and found Regina smiling.

“There aren’t a lot of decent human beings left in the world; you must have seen that on your travels. _That’s_ why they call you ‘the Savior’; that’s why they put a name on you and made you special: because you _are_.” Regina impressed on her as she leaned her head casually on her own hand, the elbow of which resting on the back of the couch as Regina curled her feet up under her. 

“I know you believe that—I can usually tell when people are lying—but you’re still wrong. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about—my parents. Their names are Snow and David. She stretched out her arm after pressing a few buttons on her Pip-Boy, pulling up the only picture she had of them, a picture of when they had been almost her age. Regina looked at the picture for a long time, then sighed.

“They came past here, a long time ago; I was a lot younger, then. I don’t think she called herself ‘Snow’; I think she went by ‘Mary’? Or ‘Margaret’? Maybe even ‘Mary Margaret’, I’m not sure. And he… he may have gone by ‘James’? Maybe? I do know that ‘Swan’ wasn’t the family name they used—it was Nolan. I remember it because I thought it was a funny name. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful; it was so long ago… They weren’t here long; I’m sorry to say we did not get along well. Your mother especially was hurting although she wouldn’t tell me why—now I think it’s because she left you behind—and your father kept telling her all would be alright. She kept calling him ‘Charming’, and I have to admit, it was a little nauseating.” Regina answered thoughtfully, obviously trying to recall as much details as she could. “You should try Gold before you leave, but I doubt he knows much more than I do; they can’t have been here longer than a week, and I only remember because that was the time I broke my leg and was home all the time. They stayed here, in this house, with my father and I. I remember your mother read to me from a storybook she said she had at home, and which she wrote down for me—”

“Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.” Emma filled in. It was the only thing she still had of her parent’s, and it was tucked away carefully in her pack.

“Exactly.” Regina said, and smiled sadly. She paused a moment, deep in thought. “I don’t know where they were headed, Emma, or why. They seemed in a hurry, though, and they were scared of something. They went north, up the road, deeper into the Wasteland. I’m sorry, that’s all I know, or at least all I can recall.” Regina added, and tapped the arm Emma had retracted lightly, in a touch of support. Emma nodded, disheartened, but happy to know that her parents had at least made it this far.

“Thank you, seriously. It may not be much to go on, but it’s something. It’s more than I had.” She said, and leaned back, fighting the numbness in her arm from the drip, and the throbbing of her heart as the chemicals took effect. When Regina handed her her cup of tea, she took it gratefully with her good hand, and brought it to her lips, mostly for comfort. It was around that time that Henry returned with a bag full of anno boxes, which he handed over to his mother happily before stealing a cake.

“Gold says that ‘he wants twice what you agreed upon, and that if you do, he will throw in a free maintenance service on your rifle’.” Henry said, sitting himself down on the floor next to Pongo and Emma, and ended up twisting and turning to keep his cake away from Pongo’s inquisitive nose and hungry mouth. “Pongo! No! No, bad boy!”

As Regina rolled her eyes at Henry’s message, Emma smirked. Seeing as Regina obviously wasn’t going to react, Emma picked up the slack.

“You _are_ sort of tormenting him with that. Best hand it over to me for safe keeping, kid.” Emma teased, and Henry grinned, handing over his cake and reaching up for a new one as Emma took a large bit of her newly acquired dessert, the teacup balancing precariously on her lap. Once she looked over, she caught Regina observing the two of them with just a hint of nostalgic emotion on her features. Emma smiled at her, and Regina cleared her throat, once more caught staring.

“Henry, one cake, then up to your room. One hour of reading, then bed, okay? You have to be up very early tomorrow to go to the diner, because Emma and I need to leave very early as well, if we want to make it to the scrapyard before nightfall.” Regina informed the both of them, and they both ended up nodding along with Regina’s words, smirking at each other when they noticed it. Regina grinned and shook her head. 

In the end, Henry spent the hour he could have been reading with them, and asked Emma a variety of questions about her life—some she was willing to answer, others not so much. She ended up telling a couple of stories about her adventures for the Wasteland Survival Guide—which turned out to be Henry’s favourite book in the whole wide world, along with ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarves’—and Emma ended up signing his copy of the guide that, indeed, looked rather well-read. He went to bed half an hour past his bedtime, excited and happy, although Emma did notice that he hugged his mom a long time before eventually heading upstairs. He was still a little boy who knew his mom might not be coming back, and once again, Emma swore that that wasn’t going to happen.

“You’re good with him.” Regina remarked once they heard the door to his room close. 

“Nah. He just likes me because of what he’s heard on the radio. I’m gonna keep you safe, and that earns me major credit.” She concluded without malice. Regina shrugged.

“Maybe, but he still took to you very easily. Don’t get me wrong, he likes new things and excitement, but he’s different with you. Freer. He’s always been a bit of a worrywart. His dad died when he was very young, and you know how life is here. Usually when I tell him I’m leaving Storybrooke for a while, he throws a fit. He trusts you implicitly with my safety, and it isn’t just the stories. He likes you… I get that.” Regina said, and her voice dropped off somewhere between seduction and general emotion. Emma smirked.

“Well, the feeling is mutual.” Emma said, catching Regina’s eye while keeping the conversation firmly on Henry. Regina smirked, and Emma licked her lips, eyes dropping to Regina’s mouth a moment. There was definitely tension between them, Emma realized, and not for the first time. She just wasn’t quite sure how far Regina was willing to take that. 

“Good… now, why don’t I help you take that IV out, bandage that wound on your arm you wandered in with, and then we head upstairs? As I said before… it will be an early morning tomorrow, and a long day.” Regina answered, and Emma nodded, still completely unsure about Regina’s intentions. Even with the headache and exhaustion that was the aftermath of her anti-radiation therapy, Emma knew she’d join Regina in bed in a heartbeat if Regina gave her an opening. The woman was beautiful, intriguing, and whenever she spoke, the velvet darkness that clung to her words sent sparks through Emma’s frame. As Regina’s fingers delicately slid the needle from her vein, applying pressure with a thumb on the puncture mark, Emma inhaled her scent without drawing too much attention to herself, marvelling in the smell of something fresh and bright—something so very rare in the foul smelling Wasteland, that that alone was enough to spark her desire for the other woman. 

Regina’s touch and proximity reminded Emma how long it had been since she had been with anyone—only a few times since leaving the vault, and one of those had been paid for—and how much she craved the touch of another. She shook the thoughts as much as she could, not wanting to interpose on her host, and resisted the urge to touch whenever Regina came close. 

By the time they walked the stairs together, lights turned off, the tea set back in the kitchen, and Pongo unhappily staying behind, Emma was struggling to broach the subject with the woman who seemed to enjoy watching her struggle so very much. Regina walked her to her door and met her eyes for a long moment, then licked her full lips lightly before turning away and heading to her own room at the end of the hallway.

"Sleep well, Emma. I'll be right here... if you need me..." Regina said, running her hand suggestively along the doorpost before winking and slipping inside. Emma figured it was pretty much the most obvious come-on she'd get, and still she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself in the face of it. Licking her lips, she stepped inside the guest room, closing the door and leaning against it heavily for a long moment. The after effects of the RadAway still plagued her, and that fresh, clean, bed did look tempting... but not as tempting as Storybrooke's Mayor.

Smirking, Emma ridded herself of her boots, socks, and pants and undid her bra under her tanktop, slipping it off easily without bothering to take off her top. She checked if her underwear would pass muster, then gathered her courage—at this point, even getting plain refused would be better than not having tried at all, she figured. Heading out onto the landing, she hesitated only a moment before knocking softly on the brunette’s bedroom door, careful not to disturb Regina's young son.

The call to enter came a moment later and Emma opened the door, slipping inside and closing the door behind her as her eyes adjusted to the low light environment. Regina was in bed, propped up against the headboard, pillow behind her back. The part of her that Emma could see was covered in sexy sleepwear, lace and satin, and barely contained the swell of full breasts. Emma managed to drag her eyes up with great difficulty, desire pooling in her gut.

“So... I may have gotten this all wrong, but I thought maybe there were some signals tonight...? And a bit of chemistry?” She started, trying for suave. Regina smirked in the half dark, reaching over to the far side of the bed and pulling the covers up in a way that left very little to the imagination. Emma took the invite easily, patting over and slipping under the cover as Regina slipped down and easily onto her side, head in her hand. Emma traversed the mattress as she wrapped herself up under the blankets, and raised herself up over Regina easily, pushing her down onto her back by her hip, trailing her side in the first bit of intimate contact they had shared beyond the medical. Dark eyes observed her, and inviting lips were suddenly within kissing distance, and Emma's eyes alternated between them as she inhaled Regina's sweet smell and revelled in her warmth.

“You're going to have to be quiet for Henry... do you think you can do that, Savior?” Regina asked, and Emma groaned, dipping her head a moment.

“I really am going to kill Three Dog for giving me that nickname.” She complained, and Regina laughed softly, nails trailing the skin of Emma's forearm in a way that made her shiver and reclaim eye contact. Her voice dipped into the low range as she spoke again. "...but yeah, I can be quiet... can you?" 

“That depends on how good you are.” Regina answered her easily as her hand slipped up and tangled into Emma's hair—Emma, who slowly lowered herself towards those inviting lips she had been envisioning kissing all night.

“I guess we'll see...” She husked, and halted herself an inch from Regina's lips. "...I'm in it to make you scream, though."

“Bring it.” Regina answered, already a tad breathless, and Emma resisted the pressure of Regina's hand a moment longer.

“Oh, I will, Madam Mayor... I will..” And with those words, she closed the distance between them, claiming Regina's lips in a passionate lock that quickly stole her breath. Regina's hand tightened in her hair, the other coming up to pull her closer and harder into her body, and Emma captured Regina's neck, thumb caressing her cheek, as she supported herself on her other arm.

They went from firm presses, to slow swipes of their tongues, to intimate exploration, getting the feel of each other as they indulged their fantasies. Emma groaned against full lips, tugging at Regina's bottom lip with her teeth and plunging her tongue between lips and teeth as she drowned in sensations. Regina was soft and warm under her, her hands appropriately—excitingly—demanding, and Emma gave into her easily, meeting her for kiss after kiss as she got comfortable with the woman she'd only met a few short hours ago. 

Of all the things Emma had expected to happen to her today, getting laid hadn't even been on the list that consisted mostly of getting injured somehow. Yet, here she was, finding some comfort and pleasure in the arms of a stranger. Well, who was she to decline an offer like this? Emma considered herself to be a lot of things, but stupid wasn't amongst them—not when it came to a good thing that suddenly presented itself to her. In the Capital Wasteland, you took pleasure where you could find it, and as Emma claimed hungry lips for another deep kiss, she realized that for tonight at least, pleasure was right here, at her fingertips, in the form of one of the most beautiful women she had ever met.

She settled herself over Regina’s waist easily, reaching up to pull her top over her head before lowering herself so Regina could take an already pebbled nipple deeply into her mouth, causing both women to groan. Regina’s hands quickly found her breasts as her hips rolled into Emma’s, providing stimulation to them both, especially when Emma begun to match her rhythm. This wasn’t going to be a lengthy encounter, Emma could tell. This was going to be fast, and good, and she was just fine with both of those criteria. 

Regina worked her breasts expertly, teasing her with lips and tongue and teeth, and before long, Emma was breathless, and her hips were rocking into Regina’s pelvis without much restraint. She tried to keep a lid on the noise she was making, but wondered how long she was realistically going to keep this up: this might have been their first time together, but it certainly wasn’t Regina’s first time with a woman.

“Tell me, Madam Mayor… who’s been teaching you to make a woman so wet?” She husked against Regina’s hair, still holding herself up with both hands as Regina’s hungry mouth alternated between her breasts. Regina pulled away, letting go of her nipple with a loud pop, and Emma sat up, running her hands up over Regina’s satin clad torso and up to her flesh before dragging down thin straps and exposing beautiful and full breasts to her hungry eyes. This time, it was Emma’s turn to scoot down and claim soft flesh with her hands and mouth, and it felt better than she had anticipated. Regina moaned deeply before finding her words.

“There may or may not be a lovely young woman in this town who has learned how to climb up the trellis when the bedroom window is open…” Regina answered her coyly, and Emma smirked into supple flesh, rewarding Regina’s honesty with a gentle bite that had Regina arch up before bucking into her abdomen as her legs wrapped around her waist.

“Let me guess, the brunette with the red streaks in her hair who took your place at the gate?” Emma asked before swiping a budding nipple, and Regina’s hands fastened into her hair, pulling her closer. 

“Ruby, yes.” Regina answered breathlessly, and Emma smirked. So that was Ruby…

“Well done, Madam Mayor…” She said without guilt or jealousy. She raised herself up lightly, plucking at the nightgown that had pooled at Regina’s side. “She’s stunning… but not as stunning as you. Mind if I take this off of you—as pretty as it is?”

Regina grinned and nodded, sitting up and wiggling free of the garment, leaving her entirely bare to Emma’s exploration. Emma sat up, letting the blankets drop away, and ran her hands appreciatively from Regina’s shoulders, over her breasts, down to a toned abdomen, and lightly covered pussy, before wrapping her hands around the outside of her thighs and sliding down to finely sharped calves and feet. 

“Wow…” She said appreciatively, a mischievous twinkle coming to her eyes. “Are you sure you want some Wasteland runaway touching you? I feel unworthy.” 

“I severely doubt that is the case, Miss Swan, and yes… you know very well I want you to touch me. Or should I have been even more obvious?” Regina chastised, and Emma smirked, sliding her hands back to Regina’s thighs and then down so she could cup her ass and squeeze. 

“Nah, I think you were just the right amount of obvious. Well, call me flattered.” She answered lightly, and slid her hands up over Regina’s sides before lowering them to the mattress so she could raise herself up over Regina, pressing her panty-clad core against Regina’s bare mound. 

Regina moaned lightly and Emma smirked as she leaned down enough to kiss the brunette deeply, enjoying the feel of hands and legs coming up to engulf her as she begun to rock against Regina, simulating the motion of the deep thrusts she would have visited upon the woman had she been naturally equipped with the right tools for the job. Regina met her every thrust wantonly, the mental stimulation of the implied action enough to raise her desire. Their kisses devolved quickly, becoming sloppier, filled with teeth and tongue, and Regina seemed to enjoy exploring the muscles in Emma’s arms and back as she moved against her again and again.

Emma hated having to be quiet, but it was worth it for this. Dipping her head down, she explored Regina’s neck, finding out she enjoyed being bitten, and relished the startled moans that fell from full lips whenever she did, suckling the lightly tortured skin to ease the sting moments later and causing Regina to settle. Soon, nails found her back, and Emma hissed, dropping her head a moment as her muscles went weak.

“I’m not the only one who likes a little pain…” Regina teased, and Emma chuckled. 

“Nope, not at all. I like it a little rough.” Emma answered and was rewarded with the slow drag of sharp nails down the length of her back, causing her to hiss and arch. “Yeah, like that…”

Regina took advantage of her moment of weakness to roll them over, and she sat up easily, capturing Emma’s arms and pushing them up over her head. Emma only struggled for show; having the lithe woman on top of her was such a beautiful sight, she really couldn’t be upset with the role reversal. Instead, she met Regina’s mouth for another round of deep kisses as Regina took a firm hold of both her wrists with a single hand—expertly manoeuvring around metal and bandages—and began to explore her torso with the other, tweaking nipples and slipping over strong abdominal muscles that rose to tension under the examination. Emma pushed her hips up sharply, causing Regina to shudder, and the blonde suddenly wished she could hurry this encounter along. Not only was she dying to get fucked, she was even more desperate to taste and tease, to explore, and this position was raising all sorts of images in the blonde’s head.

“Fuck, Regina… you are stupendously sexy, you know that right?” She complimented honestly between kisses as she half-heartedly tried to free herself one more time, fighting her own urge to touch more than Regina’s grip.

“Not so bad yourself, Savior.” Regina purred against her lips, and Emma rose up to capture Regina’s mouth with hers before she could use that damn nickname one more time. As Regina broke the kiss and straightened out on top of her, Emma felt her arms being released and immediately slid her hands up toned thighs and onto Regina’s ass, massaging the perfect globes.

“So, did you have anything specific in mind…?” Regina asked seductively, trailing her fingers over Emma’s skin and Emma pulled herself up, gathering Regina in her arms. She dipped her head so she could lick her neck and captured her earlobe between her teeth a moment too long, causing Regina to groan and arch into her as her hands found her hair. 

“Yeah, actually I’d love to lick your pussy?” She answered against the shell of Regina’s ear and found the other woman bear down beautifully onto her in need, the words obviously going straight to her core. Dirty talk, apparently, was also a thing Regina enjoyed. Good. “I’ve been thinking about what you’d taste like… a little sweet, for sure… and I can feel how wet you are, so there should be a lot of you for me to enjoy. Tell me, Regina… would you like me to lick you?”

Regina needed only a single moment to reply as her hands hurriedly pulled Emma’s head away and manoeuvred her mouth from her ear to her lips.

“Yes…” She answered breathlessly against them before crashing their mouths together, and Emma chuckled as the energized woman rocked against her, suddenly losing her restraint in the face of something that obviously appealed to her. Good, because Emma was dying to taste. Regina broke the kiss with a gasp that Emma echoed, but as Regina tried to move off of her, Emma refused to let her budge.

“No, wait.” She whispered, lying back down. She slid her hands back to Regina’s ass, trailing hot skin in the process, and pulled Regina up. It took a moment for Regina to catch on, but then she smirked and complied easily, moving up to position herself over Emma’s head, hands on the headboard of the bed. 

Emma doubted she’d ever seen anything quite so beautiful as the vision of Regina’s wet and open sex right before her for the taking, a flat stomach, a heaving chest crowned by full breasts, and eyes that were dark like onyx as Regina looked down in need. Emma wrapped her arms around Regina’s lower back and pulled her down a little, not breaking eye contact as she allowed the tip of her tongue to slide through wet folds. Even as she barely touched her, Regina shuddered and groaned, eyes falling shut a little, and Emma’s tongue came away tainted with wetness that tasted better than she had imagined.

Regina pushed herself down onto Emma’s tongue when it returned, and before long, Emma amusedly found herself a little breathless from the lack of restraint the Mayor put on her movements. Emma didn’t really care; she hadn’t been joking when she said she liked it a little rough and the bruising force against her nose and the moments without oxygen only helped to heighten her own arousal. She got so caught up with her task that she missed Regina leaning back, one hand still on the headboard for ballast, and moving the other down Emma’s abdomen and into her panties. Emma gasped and—easily catching on—moved her hands away from where they had been massaging Regina’s ass to her own hips and pulled down her panties, struggling with getting them off long moments as Regina chuckled.

“Smooth,” Regina commented dryly. “Very smooth.”

“Shut up and come here… I wasn’t done with you yet.” Emma shushed her and parted her legs as her hands returned to Regina’s hips, which had risen as Emma had fumbled. With a grin, she pulled the brunette down again and relished her deep moan as she caught the woman’s clit between her lips and suckled lightly before flicking her tongue over it. Emma was quickly learning the ropes with Regina’s body, and Regina wasn’t going to sit idly by, Emma realized happily.

Strong fingers pressed between the folds of Emma’s sex, and Emma moaned, jumping as Regina found her throbbing clit. Okay, yeah, it had definitely been too long since she’d had an orgasm not induced by her own hand, stuffed hastily inside her pants and underwear, mostly as a way to keep warm during the long nights outside. She wasn’t going to last long, that was for damn sure. 

Regina, however, didn’t seem to estimate her own chances of a long held off orgasm very high either, because as she picked up the speed and force of the movements of her hips—riding Emma’s tongue and lips with groans and hisses—she pressed two fingers deeply inside of Emma’s drenched core, causing Emma to falter and sink back into the pillow a moment, completely overwhelmed by the sensation. Regina pressed slowly but deeply inside of her, not picking up speed until Emma hurriedly returned to her sex, twisting her arm so she could get up under Regina’s leg, run a finger through her wetness and penetrate the woman above her as well. Regina’s walls gripped her tightly, roughly, and Regina sagged through her knees a little more, losing the ability to be considerate of her partner.

Contrary to Emma, penetration didn’t lead Regina to stop—in fact, her fingers picked up speed, causing Emma to groan and bite down on the inside of Regina’s thigh with such force, Regina actually yelped.

“Sorry.” Emma mumbled against her skin, but Regina didn’t seem to hear her. Leaning back like a fucking goddess, Regina was lost in pleasure, and Emma quickly pressed up against her sex, suckling on her clit, sliding through her wetness with her tongue, and letting Regina ride all of her even as she bent her own knees and pressed her feet flat onto the mattress so she could push her hips up and into every single one of Regina’s thrusts. 

Both of them gave as good as they got, Emma concluded once they had found their rhythm, and when she found herself unable to keep up her oral ministrations, she let her head fall back, panting wildly. She stared up at Regina as she tried to keep her head still so Regina’s knees bearing down onto her hair wouldn’t hurt her too much. It didn’t matter; she didn’t care—all she cared about was seeing Regina so lost in pleasure. Regina rode her finger easily, and Emma brought her other hand up to slide down over her abdomen and press her thumb roughly against her clit, rubbing as Regina groaned and jumped, increasing her own thrusts and rubs of the mouse of her hand against Emma’s clit. 

“Emma…” Regina gasped, and Emma struggled to find her voice and enough oxygen to respond. She was so fucking close already, and they had barely been at this stage of their coupling for ten minutes. 

“Right here… fuck you’re beautiful.” Emma gasped, and Regina threw her hair back, arching so far that Emma could feel the other woman’s shortish hair tickle her legs. Gorgeous, beautiful, sexy… Emma was completely overcome with the beauty before her, and hurriedly she slid her hand up over a straining belly to firm breasts, teasing and tweaking nipples as she leaned up again with her head and connected with Regina’s clit, sucking sharply in an effort to push Regina over the edge.

Emma hadn’t misinterpreted the warnings send out by taunt muscles, by stilling motions of a formerly diligent hand, nor the way Regina pushed down onto her finger and mouth in desperation. She could feel the fluttering tremble of the muscles of Regina’s thighs, heard Regina’s breath get caught in her throat, and saw her arch even further until she stilled for a long moment, and unravelled completely in a mess of panting breaths, shivering muscles, and deep moans. Emma slowed but stayed her finger, continuing to lick merrily despite the clenching of her jaw and the numbness that was slowly setting into it. This was worth any discomfort, and Regina reaching orgasm on top of her was absolutely the best reward for her efforts.

Regina pulled out of her slowly, leaving her throbbing, and leaned forward onto her arm, holding the other up so as not to dirty everything. She was completely out of it, Emma realized, and she smiled smugly, even as her tongue continued to lap gently, causing Regina to shudder with every pass over a sensitive clit. The brunette hoisted herself up, settling down heavily into Emma’s side as she buried her sweaty face into Emma’s neck. Emma kissed her hair, held her close, and let her come down, realizing she’d be perfectly fine even if Regina didn’t finish her off in return. This—all of this—had been reward enough.

“God, Emma…” Regina groaned, and Emma chuckled.

“You didn’t scream.” Emma commented dryly, not at all worried about her performance.

“That took some doing.” Regina admitted, sliding her leg over Emma’s and pulling her close as she still tried to remain aware of her soiled fingers. 

“Maybe next time.” Emma answered, and Regina laughed softly.

“Cocky…” She chastised, and Emma dropped another kiss onto dark hair. 

“Yeah, well, tell me you aren’t already thinking about it.” Emma challenge, and Regina fell silent a moment. Raising up her head tiredly, Regina dropped a kiss onto Emma’s lips—one Emma happily returned. She liked the slow kisses that came with the aftermath, even if her body was still burning. These slow caresses of lips and tongue were always more connecting somehow—meant to deepen a bond just forged. Emma didn’t overthink it; she was still leaving, but it was good for now, here, in the dark, and in a soft bed that smelled like Regina and sex.

“I can’t tell you that.” Regina admitted against her lips, and Emma smirked.

“Thought so.” She said and supported Regina’s head with her hand as she kissed her again, slowly sliding her tongue over kiss-bruised lips and smiling. She could get used to this, Emma mused. She really could. Their kisses wound down, and Regina settled her head onto Emma’s chest again. Silence settled between them as Regina drew patterns on Emma’s skin with her dried fingers, and Emma alternated between watching her bed partner and the cracks in the ceiling to give her aching neck and shoulders a rest.

“Would you like me to go?” She asked softly after a few minutes, dropping another kiss onto Regina’s head, and a slightly sleepy mumbled ‘no’ was her reply.

“I’d like it if you stayed…” Regina added, and Emma hummed, reaching out to find the tossed blankets and pull them up over their rapidly cooling bodies. 

“Okay, then I’ll stay. How about I spend the night and then sneak off to the guest room in the morning for Henry’s sake? No need to explain this to him.” Emma suggested, and Regina’s lips traced the swell of her breast.

“Yes, that’s good.” Regina answered her softly, and Emma pulled her a little tighter, smiling happily. It was silly of her, she knew, but she liked being invited to stay the night. Falling asleep with Regina in her arms sounded very, very, good, and even though she doubted she would be able to fall asleep any time soon—as wired as she was—she couldn’t find it in her to be pissed with her partner for falling asleep. It was a compliment, really, and it made her feel very protective. Sighing, she kissed dark hair on more time and felt the older woman shake against her body, falling asleep a little too fast, causing her body to wake her up again—but just enough to fall asleep more slowly. It was adorable, and it was long after Regina truly fell asleep that Emma allowed herself to get tired as well.

The sun was barely coming up through the greenish post-atomic haze that always covered the horizon when Emma awoke and extracted herself from the brunette who was still well and truly entangled with her. She had slept well—very well, actually—and it was the first time in a long while that she could truly say so. She slipped from the bed a little groggily, and reached back to cover Regina’s bare form before finding her underwear and top and putting both on. Should the kid be awake for a bathroom break or something, there was no need to scar him for life with her nudity.

She took a moment to just savour this—Regina, naked and asleep, the fresh memories inside her skull—then turned with a sigh to listen at the door a moment. When she didn’t hear any noise, she opened it to a crack. Finding the hall deserted, she quickly opened the door fully, exited, and shut the door, tip-toing to the guest room and shutting the door behind her as well. Her heart was hammering inside her chest, and she had to smirk at the ridiculousness of the situation. She felt sixteen again, sneaking from Amata’s bed into her own. Shaking her head, she headed to the pristine bed and slid in, shivering against the cold and wishing she was still under the warm blankets of the Mayor’s bed, with the brunette in her arms. Instead, she rolled onto her side, pulled the blankets around herself tightly, and stubbornly kept her eyes shut until she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a light but excited knock on her door that awoke Emma an indiscernible amount of time later, and she shot up before her mind was even awake, scrambling for a gun that—thankfully—wasn’t there as she slowly came to realize she wasn’t in danger, that she was in a bed, in a house, surrounded by a barricade that was guarded, and there was no way in hell anything that wanted to kill her would knock before doing so. Trying to calm her heart, she fell back down, eyes wide as she stared at the ceiling.

“Yeah?” She asked, wincing at the wobble in her voice, and heard Henry’s young voice telling her his mom said to get up for breakfast. She promised him she would, and heard him rush down the stairs before the door to the home fell shut and there was silence—well, almost silence: downstairs, someone was working on _something_.

It took a few long moments for Emma to regain enough of her composure to slide to the edge of the bed and swing her legs over it, sitting up and resting her head in her hands. She was a little shocked at her own reaction to being awoken so suddenly, but what did she realistically expect after getting most of her sleep in areas where the chances of waking up to a gun in her face, or being gnawed on by a feral ghoul, were about fifty-fifty. Both of these encounters had taken place in the last few months, after all, so the reaction was warranted.

With a sigh, Emma stood and pulled her pants from the top of the dresser where she had flung them onto last night, and slid them on. Socks and boots came next, placing her knife in the right one automatically. Right away, she felt strengthened; that little knife had saved her life more times than she could count. Straightening, she packed up her bag and flung it onto her shoulder, picking up her shotgun and sword with one hand, and the bulletproof vest and red leather jacket she tended to wear in the other before heading downstairs.

Automatically, she called out ‘good morning’ before rounding the corner into the kitchen, getting a ‘good morning’ in return. Regina was busy with something on the kitchen counter, and Emma dumped her stuff on the already loaded up kitchen table before looking around for Henry—and Pongo—one more time. Not finding them within her line of sight, she walked over to Regina and draped herself around the brunette, reaching up to brush away the curtain of her hair so she could drop a kiss onto her neck. Regina was cleaning her sniper rifle, Emma saw, but she stilled her hands a moment so she could relax into the slightly taller blonde and tilt her head back onto her shoulder with a sigh.

“Where’s Henry?” Emma asked against the shell of Regina’s ear, and Regina shivered.

“At the diner already, with Pongo. We’ll say goodbye later.” Regina paused a moment, then turned around in Emma’s embrace, sliding her hands around Emma’s neck as Emma kept hers on the edge of the counter, trapping Regina with her body—Regina who was dressed in yesterday’s jeans and a green top like the blonde. Emma mused she looked very, very, good, and told the woman so with a lingering kiss that Regina fell into happily.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel… after last night.” Regina whispered against her lips, and Emma furrowed her brow. There was a note of insecurity to Regina’s words that Emma thought was pretty much out of place. She only had good memories of last night, after all.

“You mean after we had a really, really, good time together and I got to hold you as you fell asleep? Yeah, no, worst night of my life—seriously.” Emma joked, trying to lighten the mood, and Regina smiled genuinely, pulling back a bit so they could lock eyes.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m really sorry I didn’t, you know…” Regina hinted, and Emma thought the blush that crept up on tinted features was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. Where was the sassy Mayor that had trained a rifle on her yesterday? Emma knew she was good in bed, but to reduce the confidant woman to a blushing teen in one session was quite a feat.

“Make me come?” She finished for the brunette, and found the other woman nodding, the blush spreading. She had to fight to keep her grin contained to a light smirk, but she could have split her face in two with the level of amusement bubbling up inside of her, and the warmth behind it. 

“Don’t worry about it. You can make it up to me later.” Emma answered good-naturedly, and captured full lips in a kiss meant to ignite—something very easy to do with the woman before her. By the time they pulled back, both were panting, and Emma wished she had the time to push Regina up onto the counter and vest her of her enticing clothing for a little re-enactment of last night’s events. She could see the same need reflected in Regina’s eyes and the teenager seemed to have been drowned out by the sexual woman Emma had gotten to know. Good, that was the woman who could put a bullet into anything threatening to kill them out there; that was the woman she needed by her side. 

“I _will_ make it up to you, Savior. Later. For now, eat your devilled eggs and let me clean my rifle. Gold is expecting us in twenty minutes.” Regina ordered, recovering, and Emma stole one more kiss before stepping back.

“Yes ma’am!” She answered lightly, smirking, and licked her lips, dropping her gaze to Regina’s lips one more time before fully extracting herself and setting herself down behind the plate of powdered scrambled eggs and digging in, watching Regina work happily—and focussing mostly on the way her ass looked in those jeans. It may be shallow, but she was going to enjoy that as long as she could—once they headed out, her eyes would be on the horizon without fault. 

Emma was impressed with the skill with which Regina cleaned and reassembled her sniper rifle. She hadn’t seen the woman shoot yet, but was quite sure Regina knew what she was doing with the weapon Emma feared above all in the Wasteland. There was nothing worse than the feeling of a gun trained on you and having no idea where the bullet would come from. Thankfully, most of the Wasteland idiots who got their hands on a sniper rifle had no idea how to deal with its maintenance, let alone the demand on the shooter for firing over great distances.

“Where did you learn to shoot one of those?” Emma asked between bites, stabbing her fork in the general direction of Regina’s weapon. Regina turned back to her a moment, and the way her hair flipped caused Emma’s stomach to drop. She covered her reaction with another bite.

“The rifle? It belonged to my mother, actually. She was very good with it, and thought it was the most powerful weapon in the Wasteland. My mother wasn’t a very kind soul, and the weapon describes her well—meticulous, clean, and deadly.” Regina lifted the reassembled rifle from the counter and held it out for inspection, gazing through the scope that was aimed somewhere above Emma’s head. Even with the short description, Emma could picture the woman well; she’d known people like that—the truly evil—and she was saddened to hear Regina knew someone like that intimately.

“…She taught me how to use it, as did Gold, actually. He’s very good with one of these. I don’t quite relish its power like they do—or did, in the case of my mother—but I’ve used it none the less, to keep myself safe, or my son.” Regina continued, and lowered the gun. Emma nodded.

“We’ve all done things we aren’t exactly proud of.” Emma answered, and Regina met her eyes. 

“Indeed.” She answered darkly, and it was clear there was a story there Emma wasn’t allowed to ask after. She was fine with that; anonymity was a great good in the Wasteland, and everyone had their demons. Besides, they weren’t anything more to each other than casual acquaintances who’d had a good time together.

“Have you finished your breakfast? I’d like to head out as soon as possible so we have enough light to take out anyone in the scrapyard from a distance.” Regina said, and despite her resolve, Emma detected a note of trepidation in her voice. She didn’t blame Regina; Emma was used to life out in the Wasteland, and even she felt hesitant to head out from the safety of Storybrooke’s high wall. 

She scooped the last of the eggs into her mouth—wastefulness was a sin—and stood, giving Regina a thumb’s up as she reached for her vest and slipped it on, before sliding her sword into the scabbard mounted to the back. She donned her red leather jacket, and hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders, watching as Regina slipped on a long leather overcoat—night black—and geared up as well. They shouldered their respective weapons at the same time, and Emma swallowed the last of her food.

“Okay, let’s go.” She said grimly, and Regina nodded, heading out in front of her. 

They traversed the tiny town core easily, and Emma caught the eyes of a few town’s people as she strode purposefully alongside the Mayor, who headed to a small building with a cracked front window. Even from here, Emma could see the shop was overloaded with relics of time’s past. The window alone housed garden gnomes, teddy bears, various Nuka-Cola merchandise items, and even an expensive looking violin. Once she got inside, Emma was overwhelmed by the tasteful clutter of pre-war draft posters, Vault advertisement, and more weapons and bits of armour she had ever seen amassed in one place—and she’d been to Moira’s store and an Enclave base. The entire back wall was ammunition. 

“Holy shit…” She sputtered, and Regina smirked, as did the elder male who had emerged the second Regina had pushed open the door, causing a high bell to ring.

“Welcome to my shop, dearie.” The man Emma assumed to be Gold greeted, and she nodded. Gold then nodded to Regina, and in a voice a lot less friendly, he addressed her companion. “Madam Mayor.” 

“Gold.” Regina answered equally icily, and Emma’s eyes darted from one to the other a quiet moment.

“Okay, awesome. I’m Emma. Now everyone’s acquainted; Mr. Gold, I was wondering if I could get some information and a few drum magazines for my shotgun?” Emma pressed, stepping between the two—who obviously shared a lot of history—and catching Gold’s eye.

“Both don’t come cheap in this world, I fear.” Gold started, but Regina shouldered her way past Emma, setting her hands on a glass case full of handguns.

“Put it on the tab. Just answer her questions and hand her the ammo.” Regina pressed, and Gold bent at the waist, smirking.

“Whatever you say, Madam Mayor.” Gold conceded, and reached behind him to get her three magazines worth of ammo. Emma nodded in thanks. Again, she brought up the picture of her parents, and showed it to Gold, who only looked at it long enough to get a general impression before sliding his eyes back to Regina.

“Those are my parents. They came here maybe twenty-something years ago? Their names are Snow and David Swan, but Regina told me they went by ‘Mary’ or ‘Margaret’ for my mother—maybe ‘Mary Margaret’—and my dad called himself ‘James’. They also said their last name was ‘Nolan’. Regina recalled that they spent a few days here and headed north—can you tell me anything more about them?” Emma asked, summarizing about all the information she had in one rush of air. This shop and this man were giving her the creeps. Gold’s eyes settled upon her with extreme scrutiny, and before long, Emma was highly uncomfortable. His keen eyes slid to Regina slowly, and he smiled unpleasantly.

“It seems you will get off cheaply this time, Regina.” He said to her, then addressed Emma again. “I am afraid that is all I can tell you about your parents, Emma. They came, they bought some supplies from me, and they headed north.”

Emma’s instincts told her Gold was lying, or at least leaving something out, but she could see she wasn’t getting it out of him—sometimes, people needed time for the dramatics, and she wasn’t gone yet. She’d visit Gold again—soon. As soon as she got back.

“Okay then, thanks for the ammo.” She said instead, trying to keep her frustration out of her voice as she grabbed the ammunition in question and turned around, rushing out of the store, Regina on her heels.

“Miss Swan.” Gold called after her, and Emma gritted her teeth. She _knew_ it. Slowing and turning around, Regina smirked at her before she, too, turned. It seemed Regina had figured out the impish shopkeeper as well.

“Yes?” She asked. “Something to add?”

“Indeed,” Gold said, rounding the counter with his cane in hand—a cane she only now realized he had at all. “I am not sure if it is of any importance, but I may have heard your father mention something about another vault?”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Which one? Why?” Emma asked, stepping deeper into the shop again. Gold smirked, obviously enjoying having power over her by dangling this carrot in front of her face. She really, really, did not like Gold. 

“I genuinely do not know the number, _Savior_ , nor the reason, but I may have heard some stories about the vault in question, if you are interested?” He pressed, and she sighed.

“I thought I’d just said that.” She gritted out, and he smiled, claiming every single moment of spotlight he could. Obviously, Storybrooke was a boring place on the best of days. 

“Indeed you did. Well, dearie, there are rumours of a vault in the north, created solely to experiment with memory manipulation. It was a disaster, as you might imagine, but the technology remains. Perhaps, it was that technology your parents were after?” He suggested lightly, and Emma felt her brows furrow in confusion. 

“Why would they be interested in that? Why would they give up their life in the vault just to go after _that_?” She asked. _Why would they give me up for that?_ She added in her head, but no one needed to hear that one.

“That, I fear, is up to you to find out.” Gold answered, and made a hand gesture meant to shoe them out. Obviously, his dramatic moment was over, and they were dismissed. Emma let herself be herded out by Regina, who guided her with a firm hand on the small of her back. The hand didn’t leave, even after the door to the store fell shut. It was a good thing, because Emma wasn’t exactly watching where she was going. Her mind was racing with this new information—another vault, experiments, memory loss; what if her parents had simply forgotten all about her? Had fallen under the spell of failing technology and had become trapped in the vault?

Emma felt like crying, like blindly heading out into the Wasteland and probably getting herself killed trying to find a vault which number she didn’t even know. It was a good thing she’d tied herself to a suddenly meaningless scavenging job or she would do something very, very, stupid. 

“Are you alright?” Regina’s soft voice cut through her reverie, and Emma hummed questioningly.

“What? Oh, yeah, just… thinking. That was a bit more than I bargained for.” She answered dismissive of her own inner turmoil, and now it was Regina’s turn to hum.

“I can imagine.” Regina agreed in the way people do when they know there is nothing they can say that would actually make things better. Emma was grateful for the support anyway. She pressed slightly closer to the brunette a moment before stepping away, not wanting to give the town’s people anything to gossip about and make Regina’s life hard. Catching on, Regina dropped her hand from Emma’s back and they walked to the diner in companionable silence, Emma still deep in thought.

The diner was actually pretty crowded for such a small town, and Emma felt herself shaken from her reverie by the sound of conversation and clattering silverware. Humanity might frighten her, but when it was docile—companionable—like here in the relatively small space of the diner, it could be comforting as well. Human interaction—as dangerous as it was—was also a true necessity, and Emma let herself get caught up in it to drown her fears and pain. 

Granny Lucas was a spunky and elderly woman—a true rarity in the Wasteland, on both accounts—and according to Regina, she made a really, really, really, ‘mean’ Molerat burger on a mushroom bun. ‘ _So fresh, it might jump up and bite you_ ’, Granny advertised, and Emma had almost lost her appetite for one. She still promised herself one of them as a reward once she got back; Emma was never one to back off from a challenge. For now, Emma watched Regina say goodbye to her son, and waved pleasantly—and yes, a bit smugly—to the woman she now knew was Ruby, who was squinting suspiciously at her. 

Ruby turned away, stealing a moment of intense conversation with Regina as Henry rushed over to Emma, Pongo on his heels. 

“Emma!” He called out, and she tore her eyes away from the two lovebirds to a blissfully oblivious little boy. He pulled to a halt right in front of her and she squatted down, wrapping a hand over Pongo’s back as he pressed close to her side happily.

“What’s up, kid?” She asked, mellowing her voice. She stole glances of a young woman trying desperately not to raise her voice while Regina just brushed her off, and tried not to show her amusement; Henry was obviously trying to tell her something important.

“My mom… you’ll keep her safe, right? I know she can handle herself, and that she’s a really good shot, but…” Henry trailed off, and she rubbed his shoulder.

“…but you want her to come back safe, and every little bit helps. Well, you know I don’t really like people calling me the Savior, but for you, I’ll make an exception. I’m going to do everything I can to bring your mom back safe and sound, okay?” She promised, and it really was the best she could do. She couldn’t promise Regina wouldn’t get killed—it was a dangerous world out there—but she could promise to try not to let it happen. It seemed to appease Henry enough for him to lose the fear that had been clouding his young eyes. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. After another moment, she stood again, pulling Henry against her instinctively, and he let her.

“Hey Regina,” she called out just loud enough for the other woman to hear her and look up from the spat she was having with her bed partner. Emma motioned towards the door, then tapped her Pip-Boy encased wrist to indicate they needed to go. Regina nodded, holding up her hand to buy herself another moment with the young waitress. Emma sighed, standing around a bit awkwardly as all eyes shifted to her in studious avoidance of the Mayor and her plaything—everyone but Granny, obviously. Granny looked like she was about ready to empty a shotgun into Regina’s chest.

Another minute or so, and Regina managed to extract herself from the brunette blocking her path, slipping past her with a near-murderous expression on her features, although she hid it relatively well as she met Henry’s eyes and smiled. 

“Alright, that’s that. Henry, sweetheart, be good for me. We’ll be back late tomorrow evening, or early the morning after, but don’t worry if we are a little late. Sometimes things go wrong, okay? Here—” Regina reached behind her neck and undid the clasp to a thin gold chain which held a ring. “Keep this safe for me, alright? I’ll come to get it back soon. I love you, my little prince.”

Another hug and a kiss, and Regina straightened, nodding at her. Emma returned the gesture and looked around her a moment before ruffling Henry’s hair one more time and heading out. Regina followed her silently until they passed the gate—Emma now realized the gap in the fence actually had a gate that could be slid to the side to admit visitors or let out villagers—and they both reached for their respective weapons. As the chain linked fence slid closed behind them, Emma broke the heavy silence.

“So… that looked awkward.” She teased lightly, and received a murderous glare before Regina’s eyes resumed their scan of the horizon, where Emma’s were also fixed. The smirk that had been threatening to come out since the diner had broken through, though, and refused to budge while Regina mulled over her answer.

“I may have… underestimated the level of commitment Ruby had linked to our… encounters.” She eventually answered, and Emma snorted.

“You really should have become a politician. What you meant to say was that you led on that poor girl, let another woman fuck you, and you were shocked to find out she didn’t appreciate that.” Emma pushed, and Regina sighed.

“Yes, pretty much.” She conceded. “It truly was an honest case of mistaken expectations. I’m not in love with Miss Lucas, and she—well—she may have had the tiniest of crushes.”

“Ouch… ‘Miss Lucas’, huh?” Emma teased, unable to resist tormenting the already flustered woman. She believed Regina; it had just been fun to her—a way to pass the cold, lonely, nights, like their encounter last night—and now she’d suddenly had a very awkward semi-break-up in the town’s diner and she was miserable under the scrutiny. 

“Oh, be quiet.” Regina scoffed, and Emma dipped her head with a smirk, taking a tighter hold on her shotgun a moment as she thought she saw something move that turned out to be a dust devil. Sighing, she lowered the gun again, and decided to risk a chance in Regina’s general direction. She did look upset, Emma mused. Perhaps Regina did have some feelings for Ruby, even if they were just superficial.

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Perhaps you can patch things up with her once we come back?” She tried, finding it a little awkward to give relationship advice to the woman she’d just shared a bed with, and whom she was still hoping to get up close and personal with before day’s end. Regina hummed lightly a moment.

“We’ll see. Besides, I know for a fact I’m not the only woman in town she’s sleeping with—I’m just the only one that she thought she might have had a chance with for the long term.” Regina answered vaguely, and Emma left it at that. It was none of her business anyway; she was moving on soon, and it was Regina’s mess to deal with. 

They walked an hour or two in companionable silence before Emma spoke again. Being quiet had never been her strong suit, after all. They had left Storybrooke far behind, and beyond a Molerat or two, the route really was blissfully empty so far. Regina knew their direction well, although Emma had set a waypoint on her Pip-Boy, regardless. No reason to get lost or keep Regina from her son longer than strictly necessary, after all. 

“That ring you gave Henry, was that uh… did it belong to his dad?” She asked awkwardly, and Regina observed her a moment.

“Yes, it was Daniel’s. He died just before Henry was born; my mother shot him.” Regina answered grimly, and Emma’s head whipped about to look at her—eyes wide.

“Jesus. What happened?” She asked before she could stop herself. Regina smirked, and Emma was starting to get good at reading the brunette’s expressions. This was the evil smirk, the one that meant she was hurting and covering it up with a fuckload of walls. 

“She told me it was an accident, that she thought he was a Raider when he came back from a supply run at night, but I know the kind of person my mother was—and she never thought Daniel was good enough for me. I always thought she’d shot him on purpose, but she refused to speak of it.” Regina added curtly, and Emma winced.

“Wow… That’s… messed up.” She answered, and Regina snorted.

“Very eloquent, Miss Swan.” Regina chastised, and Emma rolled her eyes at the tone of voice. She wanted to tell Regina off, but really, it was a sore subject, and Emma could have just left it the hell alone. With a nervous glance around her, taking in the dirt dry Wasteland plains and finding nothing that could kill her in the next few seconds, she reached out to stop Regina. The brunette glanced down at Emma’s hand on her arm in surprise, then did come to a halt, curious but guarded eyes meeting hers.

“Look, I’m sorry. Today’s been rough, and I didn’t mean to pry. I can be quiet until we get to the scrapyard, okay? Or you know, we can talk about anything you’d like. We’re just going to get your stuff, and your friend, and go home to your kid. That’s the operation. And, you know, just for clarity’s sake… you don’t owe me anything, okay? Not for last night, not for coming with you—I’m sorry us hooking up got you in trouble, and it’s up to you if it happens again. I don’t know what your deal is with Ruby, so just… yeah, I just wanted to get that out there.” Emma monologue awkwardly, dropping the hand from Regina’s arm once she realized she was still holding it. Regina searched her eyes for a long moment, then smiled, and Emma smiled in return.

“Thank you.” Regina answered softly, and for once, she didn’t put up all defences. Emma nodded, shrugging. With a smirk, she started walking again, leaving Regina to catch up. Over her shoulder, she added one more comment.

“No problem. Just so you know, though, if you want it to happen again, I’m all for it.” 

And if she was supposed to feel guilty about Ruby, she wasn’t. This was the Capital Wasteland, and no one lived long enough for guilt—or relationships. Ruby was naïve to think that emotional commitment was something anyone could afford in this hell-hole—and if Regina was to be believed, Regina wasn’t the only one stepping out on their deal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light gore and violence in this one.

Two more hours passed in which they settled on light topics to get past the awkwardness that had settled between them despite Emma’s attempt at breaking the ice. Regina had smirked at her once she had caught up, but other than that, she had left the topic undiscussed. Regina had shared more about her life with Henry in the tiny town, and Emma more about getting chased by every mutated creature imaginable, including the two-headed cow-lookalikes that roamed the Wasteland. Brahmin were usually pretty docile, but if you managed to piss them off, they would chase you to the ends of the earth and back if you did not put them down. Regina had laughed at her stories, and Emma had found herself trying to reproduce the sound, sharing more and more awkward tales, just to get the joyous reaction. 

Somewhere along the way, Emma realized she really did like Regina. She was tough as nails, and sexy as all hell—but she was also soft and vulnerable underneath. It was a tempting combination, and the knowledge of how good Regina was in bed was icing on the cake. To counter her wayward thoughts, Emma told herself again and again that she was leaving, but in all honesty, she enjoyed the distraction Regina Mills provided; it spared her from having to think about her parents and their potentially life-threatening situation. 

It was a Super Mutant that eventually undid her dark thoughts entirely. Regina spotted him first—or her, there really was no telling with the yellow brutes—and she dropped down to a knee behind an abandoned car on the remnants of the highway they’d been trailing. Instinctively, Emma followed her example, sending a questioning glance at the brunette, who was looking at her intently.

“Super Mutant.” Regina mouthed, and Emma nodded. She pointed at herself and her shotgun, but Regina shook her head, motioning to her sniper rifle instead. Emma nodded, keeping her shotgun ready in case Regina missed her shot. She watched as Regina turned on the spot slowly and moved around her to get a better angle, using the tail end of the rusty vehicle as a hiding spot as she put her eye to the scope. Emma was silent, waited patiently as Regina made minute corrections, and watched as Regina took a deep breath, exhaled, and took the shot in the quietness between breaths. The shot was deafening in the stillness, and Emma’s eyes darted around her frantically, trying to see what may have been attracted to the sound. Thankfully, the Wasteland remained as empty as it usually appeared.

Regina stood, and Emma stood with her, shotgun at the ready. Well off in the distance, however, at least twelve car lengths away, lay a floored brute. The area was deserted. One shot, one kill. Somehow, Emma was quite sure that Regina’s mother had instilled that lesson into her daughter when she had taught her how to shoot.

“Nice.” She complimented honestly, and the corners of Regina’s very inviting mouth pulled up a tiny bit before she shrugged.

“Not too much wind today.” The brunette answered, and Emma realized that Regina sucked at taking a compliment. Well, Emma was probably worse at it, so there was that—they could bond over their inability to value themselves enough to let other people compliment them on their accomplishments. Oh, the conversations they could have if they had been emotionally mature enough!

Super Mutants travelled notoriously light, but the trucks they tended to use as hide-outs usually contained some ammo and random goods. Regina searched the body and came away with nothing as Emma admired the perfect shot between the eyes Regina had inflicted. They left the bald mutation to rot as they wordlessly scanned the vehicles on the road for anything that could serve as a hide-out. 

The one truck nearby seemed their best bet, and carefully they traversed the distance. It was abandoned, contained a few ammo boxes that they pried open and raided, and a few crates with empty bottles, laundry detergent that Regina took, and a few packages of ramen noodles. They split those while Emma took the ammo. They also found a medkit with a blood pack, a stim pack, and a bottle of purified water. They shared the latter on the spot and Emma added the rest to her backpack, deciding that they would figure out a division key once they got back—if they wouldn’t be forced to use it all first. 

Emma hopped off of the bed of the covered truck ahead of Regina, extending her hand to the brunette, who took it gratefully. They smiled at each other, and Emma enjoyed the bits of skins she could feel of the other woman as their hands—covered with fingerless gloves—entwined. Images of those fingers traversing her skin and slipping inside of her shot through Emma’s system a moment, and she was quite sure Regina shared her thoughts. 

The brunette was about to hop down when Emma saw her expression change from borderline seductive to one of shocked fear. Extrapolating the source of the danger from the direction Regina’s eyes shifted to, Emma dropped Regina’s hand, brought up her shotgun, and emptied half a chamber into the face of the hulking yellow brute who had rounded the side of the truck while they had been inside. The wooden board with nails rammed through it dropped at his feet as he first covered his face with his hands, then pulled those away as well as Emma shot them up with a new round. In the end, he didn’t get a punch in; she side-stepped him for bullet three and four—both of which went smack into his ugly features—and ended up dropping him with her fifth shot, leaving her a few paces from the truck, panting, wide-eyed, and with her heart hammering in her chest.

As the giant fell at her feet, Emma instinctively sought out Regina, checking her over to see if she was alright as the brunette jumped off of the truckbed and traversed the distance between them.

“Are you alright?” She echoed Emma’s thoughts, and Emma nodded.

“Yeah, just… fuck, I hate Super Mutants!” She cursed, letting her fear and panic explode from her in a violent outburst that had her kick the messed up brute. Regina let her; they both knew how close they’d become to this operation ending up a disaster before it had even truly begun. They were going to have to be even more careful in the future—Super Mutants were rarely alone, and they should never have let their guard down like that.

“Fuck!” Emma added emphatically, and shook her head. Regina scanned the area and sighed, looking guilty enough for Emma to extrapolate that the brunette was well aware that their little _moment_ back there had almost cost Emma her life—or at least a few stim packs to heal the effects of a nailboard through the back of the skull.

“Perhaps we should move.” Regina suggested, and Emma nodded in agreement. She really had no desire to stay here any longer, even though they should be fairly safe here now the Super Mutant’s partner had been taken care of as well. They were going to have to move on anyway, though, especially if they wanted daylight to scout the scrapyard before entering. 

They left the dead Super Mutant in the dust and Emma reloaded her shotgun as Regina kept watch, guarding over her a bit more intently, Emma thought, now they’d just shared this experience. She couldn’t blame Regina; after all, she felt the same way.

They came upon the fork in the road to the east that Emma had taken on her meandering way up to Storybrooke about four hours past noon, and another hour later, they found the corpses of the Raiders Emma had shot. It was a bloody mess, and they’d been partly torn apart and used as a meal by the local wildlife. The filthy excuses for human beings with their spiky hair and spikier clothes always unnerved Emma, but to see the aftermath of the slaughter this up close and personal did spook the blonde a little. It was one thing to shoot four Raiders because they came at you, but quite another to happen upon their mutilated corpses a week later.

“Were this them?” Regina questioned, her voice dark and murderous enough to surprise Emma—after all, Archie was dead, his killers were dead—vengeance really wasn’t an option anymore. Vengeance was done and over with.

“Yeah, I think so. The scrapyard is only an hour or so away now; it makes sense.” Emma answered carefully, and Regina nodded, her eyes losing a bit of their intensity in light of Emma’s confirmation.

“Good.” Regina said, and the darkness that clung to the word was deep enough to send shivers through Emma’s spine—and not just out of fear. She kind of liked this darker side of Regina—not so much in the ‘to live with every day’-way, but definitely in the ‘to roleplay in the bedroom’-kind of way. One of those cops and hookers roleplays, maybe… or the queen and her prisoner. Emma smirked, and shook her head. She really shouldn’t be having these thoughts, but it was so tempting to indulge herself a little.

They left the Raiders in the dust in the same way they’d left all their kills so far. Kill or be killed was the Wasteland motto, and if you failed, you shouldn’t expect a burial of any kind. Besides, exposed you made a decent meal for the wildlife, and what else were they going to eat? Such was the circle of life of the Capital Wasteland, and no one thought about it for too long. You simply turned your back and walked away. Anyone who looked behind them deserved to be killed by whatever happened upon them from the front.

The scrapyard came into their field of vision an hour and a half later, and Regina motioned with her hand to make a circling motion around it so they could approach from the east side. Here, a crumbling overpass overlooked the salvage yard, and Emma assumed it was the best vantage point for a sniper. Indeed, Regina quickly crouched down behind the low wall and they took in the seemingly abandoned area, Emma with plain eyes, Regina through the scope of her well-maintained rifle. 

They sat quietly for long moments, and Emma watched the sun set a little more every second until Regina held up her hand, then pointed to the south-west corner of the fairly square yard. Emma let her eyes slide over abandoned cars, train wagons, and piles of crap in search for whatever had drawn Regina’s eye. It didn’t take her long; moving quietly from behind a small shack Emma had figured would be their crash pad for the night, three Raiders emerged. One of them was a woman, dressed in scraps of clothing and armour, a hunting rifle in her hands. Her hair was short and spikey, and she wore goggle-like glasses. The other two were male, dressed in similar garb that was so telling of their gang. One wore a hockey mask, the other a helmet.

Emma turned her head to Regina and brought her weapon up. There was no way she was going to hit these guys from way over here, but the motion triggered Regina into settling her weapon quietly on the concrete ledge in front of her. An intake of breath, another, and then a slow exhale before a shot rang out. The woman dropped like a stone. Quickly, Regina reloaded as the males looked up. The one with the helmet dropped next as Emma’s ears rang from the shot. The third man tried to hide, but his mask must have prevented him from spotting his assailant. He gave Regina a line to the back of his head, and he slumped against the car he’d been trying to hide behind. Regina reloaded and looked up intensely, trying to spot any more danger. Emma—who hadn’t stopped looking out for the same—held her breath as the sound of the last gunshot faded and they waited for whatever or whoever may have heard them to come out of hiding. No one came. 

They waited a good five minutes, but the yard and surrounding area remained deserted. Regina met Emma’s questioning eyes and shrugged.

“All clear.” She whispered, unable to completely shake their vigilance, and Emma nodded.

“Impressive shooting.” She complimented again, and Regina smiled lightly before standing up from her cramping position. Sticking your head out after taking shots was always the worst moment, and Emma raised herself up simultaneously in support. Besides, she didn’t want Regina to take a bullet any more than she wanted her to think she was scared to take one herself.

“Okay, good. How about we go around and through the fence there? That’s how I came in last time, so I should be able to find your friend again, if he’s still there.” Emma said, and found her voice a little shaken by another brush with potential death. Regina lowered her gun, licked her lips nervously, and nodded. 

“That sounds like a good plan.” She agreed readily, and her usually steady voice was a little wavering as well. At least Emma wasn’t the only one affected.

They walked the wall that formed the ‘back’ of the scrapyard cautiously, eyes continually cast down into the yard at least fifteen feet below until the wall started sloping down. At the spot where the wall became connected to a chain linked fence, they changed their plans and hopped down the last few feet, dropping themselves into an area that was at least the size of three football fields—maybe four.

“So, besides your friend, what are we looking for?” Emma asked, nervously sliding her eyes over the carcasses of cars, the remnants of radio towers, and more hiding places than her already fried nerves could realistically handle.

“Scrap metal, obviously, motorcycle gas tanks and hand breaks, small tires, tin cans, tools like hammers, leather belts, fission batteries, steam gauge assemblies if we can find them… anything that may prove useful.” Regina answered absentmindedly, and Emma was about to object by saying that the return journey was going to be a bitch if they were going to haul all of that back on their backs when Regina continued. “We sent Doctor Hopper along with a pull cart—it should still be here somewhere, and else we can probably rig something to get us home.”

“Okay, sounds fair. I think I left his body over there.” Emma said, pointing north. “Not sure if he’s still there, but it’s as good as place as any to start. Fair warning: it’s been a week, and he wasn’t looking super preserved when I found him so… brace yourself?”

Regina looked at her a moment and Emma didn’t falter under the scrutiny. Regina was looking at her like she was trying to gauge if Emma was underestimating her strength, but she hadn’t been; she just wanted to prepare the brunette. Sighing, Regina nodded and moved on ahead, Emma covering the rear.

“What kind of doctor was he anyway? I thought you guys already had a doctor?” Emma asked, trying to break the obviously tense mood.

“We can’t have more than one?” Regina asked and there was a teasing quality to her voice that settled Emma. She didn’t like pissing off the brunette, and she’d obviously been on the verge of doing so.

“Yeah, you can, it’s just—” Emma faltered, and Regina glanced back at her with a wicked smirk.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Miss Swan.” She sassed, and Emma rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t a doctor in the traditional sense. He was our… psychologist, our person to talk to.”

“Doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who should be soloing a mission like this.” Emma said softly, trying not to sound like she was throwing insults around.

“He wasn’t alone; Pongo was with him. He was also a very good shot, and a careful, intelligent, man who was level-headed enough to head out unsupervised. In Storybrooke, we all carry our own weight, and sometimes that includes leaving the safety of the community. We all know the dangers. That said, he was a good man, and a good friend, and he is going to be missed.” Regina said, her voice going from sharp to sorrowful in the span of a few sentences. Emma sighed and nodded.

“Again, sorry for your loss.” She repeated yesterday’s statement, and Regina nodded.

“It’s not your fault.” Regina said curtly, and Emma got the distinct feeling Regina thought that the fault was entirely her own. She couldn’t blame the brunette—the order for Archie Hopper to head out into the Wasteland had probably been Regina’s to give. 

They fell silent until Emma guided them to the corner of the scrapyard she had last seen the curly haired man’s remains. He wasn’t at the spot where she’d left him, but the drag marks and faded blood drops were easy enough to trace. They found him in a broken down red boxcar, propped up against the far wall. Why anyone had dragged him in there was beyond Emma’s comprehension, but at least it had spared him from being mauled by wandering critters.

Emma let Regina move past her, and watched the brunette’s shoulders sag as she laid eyes upon her friend. Quietly, she headed out as Regina moved forward. There was no reason for her to watch this sad reunion. Instead, she busied herself with scouring the area for something they could wrap the doctor in, and the elusive pull cart. She located both not far off; the pull cart was a converted car trunk put on wheels, an iron bar grip welded to it. It was going to be a bitch to manoeuvre through the Wasteland, but it was a hell of a lot better than having to carry everything. She also located some salvageable tarp that was just going to have to do. Pulling both back to the train cart, she sat down and waited for Regina to be done; she didn’t want to rush her, or leave her alone. It was truly getting dark now, and the search for anything they could salvage would have to be postponed anyway; they had time to mourn.

Once Regina emerged, her face was cold, her eyes a little red, and her back too straight. They decided to load Archie onto the cart now and not leave him here another night. When Emma volunteered for the job, Regina accepted with hesitation, but took Emma’s weapon, jacket and vest regardless, hands shaking. Emma steeled her nerves, took the tarp, and stepped into the boxcar that smelled like decay and urine.

Up close, Archie looked worse than she had first thought. He was bloated, and the heat had not done him good. His bullet and stab wounds had become infested with creepy crawlies that made Emma’s skin crawl sympathetically. In silence, she cursed herself for volunteering. She _had_ volunteered, though, and so she pulled the edge of her top up over her nose to dampen the smell and laid out the tarp on the ground next to the deceased, trying to avoid stepping into the juices that always leaked from a decaying body. 

She kept a tight rein on her gag reflexes as she took a steadying breath and took a hold of the material of Archie’s plain white shirt. With a single heave that pulled the muscles in her bare arms taunt, she hoisted him to the side and onto the tarp, stumbling a little under the dead weight and only catching herself a moment _after_ she’d squarely stepped into the puddle of human decay. She shivered and stepped back, the back of her hand against her mouth as she swallowed down this afternoon’s Radroach jerky that threatened to come back up.

The heat and the smell threatened to overwhelm her a moment, but she knew that if she got out of the boxcar now, she was not going back in. Clenching her jaw, she turned back around and forced herself not to see Archie as a human being. She planted her foot firmly on the edge of the tarp as she hoisted the corpse further onto it—far enough that both his head and his feet were on it. Then, she folded a corner of the tarp down over his face, another over his feet, and covered him with a length of tarp before rolling him over a couple of times. With difficulty, she managed to fix two bits of rope around the package that thankfully did not look human anymore, and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Archie looked like a sturdy package, all wrapped up, and before Emma lost her nerve, she grabbed his feet, dragged him to the doorway of the cart and jumped out. Regina tried to meet her eyes once she emerged, but Emma wasn’t quite ready for that. Dropping her gaze to the dusty ground, she licked her lips and pulled the cart up to the edge of the wagon. Regina didn’t offer to help her as she struggled to drop the package down into the cart in such a way that he wouldn’t make a sickening thud. She failed, and Emma felt her stomach turn so violently that for a moment, she was sure she would be sick. Turning around, she gasped for air and fought her reflexes for long moments before she grimly finished her job. She arranged the body on the cart, fixed the tarp where it had come undone a little, and stepped back, hands on her sides as she panted for breath, trying to fool herself into thinking the outside air was settling her stomach.

“Thank you.” Regina said softly, and Emma nodded, aware Regina was hurting, and aware that nothing anyone could say could really take away the horror of the memories that came with hoisting around a week old corpse.

“Don’t mention it. I’m going to uh…” She didn’t finish the sentence, simply allowed her feet to walk where her thumb had pointed, and Regina nodded from the car carcass she had sat herself down on. She managed to contain her nausea until she was out of sight of the brunette—and hopefully out of earshot—before she gave in to the inevitable. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thrown up, but she did now, retching until her stomach cramped and she didn’t even have gall to spew up. Hidden behind a pile of cars, in-between a pre-war playground apparatus shaped like a rocket and a stack of tires, she tried to expel the memories along with her lunch. She failed, but eventually, she was tired enough that it dulled them somewhat.

She moved her tongue around her mouth, spit, and straightened out, wincing at the pain in her abdominal muscles. With a sigh, she ran her forearm over her face, wiping away tears that had emerged reflexively, and scoffed her soiled boot in the dirt, buying herself a few more moments to straighten out her breathing. She kicked dust over her own vomit and cracked her neck as a way to relief the tension in it. With a sigh, she headed back to Regina, who was still waiting where she had left her. It was truly getting dark now, but Emma could still spot the bottle of water Regina silently offered her, and she took it gratefully, rinsing and spitting rhythmically a few steps off until her stomach settled and her mouth didn’t taste like death anymore. It was wasteful, but she poured the remainder of the bottle over her hands and shoe, regardless, then tossed the bottle away with enough force to shatter it on impact with the metal of a car wreck. She winced, but it felt liberating to do.

“Why don’t we go to the shed for the night?” Regina asked from a way’s off and Emma nodded.

“Sure. Lead the way.” She finally broke her self-imposed silence, and gratefully watched as Regina got up and took the handlebar of the cart before she had to offer to do that as well. Silently, they walked to the rickety shed made up almost entirely of rusty galvanized iron sheets. Regina manoeuvred the cart around the Raider corpses and Emma bent down to relieve them of their ammo stashes, weapons, and other useful items—few as there were. It was easier when they had just died, and she had to admire Regina’s skill as she found the single bullet wound in all of them. Quietly, they dragged the corpses off, and Emma didn’t have it in her to get nauseous again. She just did it and walked back to try the door—which was locked.

“That’s odd—it’s usually unlocked.” Regina commented once she joined the blonde, and the two exchanged slightly concerned looks. 

“Well, if there was anyone inside, we would have known about them by now. I’ll try picking the lock, unless you want the honour?” Emma offered, not wanting to step on any toes. Regina shook her head.

“That’s not part of my skillset, Savior.” She sassed, and Emma inwardly smiled as she externally winced at the name, rolling her eyes. Her interactions with Regina were bringing life back into her numb body and brain—that was good. Very good. She fished her lock picking tools out of her backpack and laid them out in front of her as she kneeled down in front of the door, inserting the pins and starting the frustrating struggle with the tumblers. 

Emma was a decent lock picker, but after about five minutes, she had to admit defeat. Some locks just weren’t pickable—this one was one of them. It seemed security had been upgraded quite a bit since Regina had last been here. Sighing, she sat up on her heels and glanced up to Regina, who arched a brow. Emma stood and shook the dust from her pants.

“Plan B.” She said lightly and reached out to request her shotgun from Regina. Regina handed it over and Emma took steady aim. With a single shotgun blast, the lock was blasted out and the door swung open to reveal a dark but blissfully empty space, done up as an office.

“Subtle.” Regina commented dryly, and Emma grinned. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” She asked as she stepped inside—shotgun raised in case anything or anyone was hiding in the space. Regina followed her closely, peering past Emma into the space beyond.

“That it did.” She agreed, and lowered the sniper rifle when nothing jumped them. Emma relaxed as well, smirking at the brunette, who met her eyes with a twinkle in hers. The living left behind the dead—and the memories of the dead—quickly, lest they became amongst their numbers, Emma knew, and Regina and her were both still alive. Life went on. _They_ went on.

“So, was this always an office?” Emma asked as she closed the door and motioned to Regina to help her manoeuvre one of the five desks in the room in front of it to keep out—or at least slow down—intruders. 

“No.” Regina groaned as she lifted the heavy weight. “It used to have only a single desk and a lot of junk. Someone must have set up shop here, so I suggest we wake up early, find what we came here for, and head out before they come back.”

“Good plan. I’m all in favour.” Emma agreed, and looked around, flicking the light switch on her Pip-Boy so she could scan the room for another light source. The shed didn’t have windows, so they could light a lamp pretty safely. Emma spotted one on a shelve, hooked up to a fission battery, and switched it on, bathing the room in a cold glow that didn’t make the space any more inviting. In fact, she felt even less safe than before now she had pretty literally lit up a sign that said ‘we’re here’; even though she doubted much light would reach the outside world. Regina looked equally uncomfortable.

“Sleep or dinner?” Regina questioned, setting down her pack with resolve and reaching inside for a can of Pork n' Beans. The thought of eating turned Emma’s stomach, but she reached out her hand anyway, causing Regina to toss the can over to her. Emma caught it easily and sighed, pulling off the lid and smelling the food in the hope it would incite her usual ability to eat anything, anytime, anywhere. It didn’t.

“Awesome.” She complimented sarcastically, and Regina grinned. 

“Sorry it’s not up to my usual level of cooking, Savior.” Regina answered, fully aware the nickname grated on Emma’s last nerves.

“Ha Ha. Very funny. Do you have a spoon in there somewhere? Truth be told, I’m too fried to get mine.” Emma answered, and grinned gratefully when Regina, indeed, tossed over a spoon. She dug into the two hundred year old cold beans with trepidation, but found they actually settled her stomach instead of upset it further. Seated cross-legged on one of the desks, she finished the whole of the can, scraping out the tin entirely before smacking it down on the desk with a satisfied sigh. Regina had abandoned hers half way though, she noted, but couldn’t bring herself to comment on it. Lethargy had set in almost instantly.

“How are you doing?” She asked Regina, who shrugged.

“As well as can be expected.” The brunette answered, and Emma nodded, stifling a yawn. Sure, she’d had every intention of seducing Regina for round two, but now they were here after a grand total of seven kills, one near-death experience, more dead bodies than was desirable in any way, and the constant feeling of being exposed out here in the Wasteland, that enthusiasm had been curbed rather spectacularly. “You?”

“Oh, you know,” Emma started vaguely. “It’s been a long day.”

Regina met her eyes and nodded as understanding passed between them. Lithely, Regina slid off of the desk chair she had previously occupied and took Emma’s shotgun.

Why don’t you get some sleep first? I’ll wake you up in a few hours, get some sleep myself, and then we head out into the yard at first light.” Regina offered, and Emma gratefully nodded. She would have made it through first watch, but the siren song of sleep was pretty alluring. 

“Deal.” She commented with a smile, and Regina mirrored the expression. With a little help from Regina, Emma settled one of the desks onto its side and slid it—legs first—against the back wall, creating a little box of safety should anyone burst in and start shooting. The thin steel wasn’t going to stop bullets, but at least it blocked line of sight. Emma left her sword on a nearby desk and spread out her blanket on the floor after gratefully accepting Regina’s as well, wrapping herself up in it as she lay down and settled her jacket under her head. She didn’t bother taking off her boots, but took the time to fish her knife out of them and flatten it to her body, hand curled around the hilt. With a sigh, she turned her back to the door and Regina—who had taken up post behind the first desk from the blocked door, shotgun in hand. It was going to be a long night, Emma mused, but sleep came easily. She was too tired, and too emotionally fried, to let her concerns for her own safety keep her up. She was just going to have to trust Regina.


	5. Chapter 5

It was the soft calling of her name that awoke Emma, shaking her from a dream about her life in the vault. It still surprised her how often she dreamt of her life there. Perhaps it was a way for her brain to escape to a time in her life where she was at least physically safe, but she always wondered why she didn’t dream more about Super Mutants and bullet wounds. 

“What time is it?” She slurred as she rolled over carefully, aware of the knife, and hoisted herself to her knees. Regina sat a little way’s off, obviously aware that close proximity to a sleeping Wasteland rat with a knife was a sure-fire way to earn yourself a stim pack or two to the chest. 

“About two AM.” Regina answered, standing up to hand her back her shotgun. Emma took a moment to observe the brunette. She didn’t look too good, to be honest. She looked haggard, fidgety, and Emma couldn’t blame her. Having spent many a night out in the Wasteland in even less protected shelters than this one, she knew how long the nights were, and how every sound made you jump. She threw up her knife, caught the blade, and handed the weapon to Regina with flair, happy that even with the lethargy still strong in her body, she could do that parlour trick with ease. It even earned her a quick smile that was soon drowned out by exhaustion. Standing, Emma offered Regina the bed.

“All quiet?” She asked, and watched Regina sit and wrap the blanket around her. Regina tried to hand her her jacket, but Emma waved her off. The heat of the day still lingered in the rapidly cooling shed, and she didn’t need it. “Keep it. It makes a good pillow.”

“Thanks. I thought I heard something a couple of times, but nothing happened.” Regina answered her, and Emma nodded, turning around as she realized Regina was uncomfortable laying down while she was still watching. That woman had some self-confidence issues for sure, Emma noted, but couldn’t find it in her to be annoyed. God knew, she had enough issues of her own. 

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye and an ear out. Get some rest.” She answered gruffly, feeling the woman would perhaps better respond to a bit of emotional distance, and finally, she heard the sounds of someone laying down and settling themselves. Looking back, she couldn’t spot the woman anymore, and smiled. She took to the table Regina had occupied, but instead of using the chair, she used the table itself and lay the shotgun on her lap as she settled in for the long wait.

It took Regina about half an hour to still. She had tossed and turned for a while, but eventually the sounds had fallen away, and been replaced with soft breathing that equalled out rapidly. Emma was reminded of last night, of holding the brunette until she could experience these sounds up close. It was a fond memory, and Emma smiled as she remembered it, allowing her mind to drift to the events that had taken place before in an attempt to pass the time more pleasantly.

The first hour ticked away easily. The outside world was dead quiet, the world inside the shed was dead quiet as well, and Emma had her memories. By hour two, however, Emma was bored and restless, flicking through notes and maps on her Pip-Boy to pass the time. For once, she wished she could listen to Galaxy News Radio. Hearing Three Dog go on about her on his show was annoying, but music would help her pass the time—even if it were the same twenty or so songs over and over again. She didn’t want to wake Regina, though, and it would be harder for her to hear anyone approach if she got lost in pre-war rockabilly.

It was Regina who eventually provided a welcome distraction, although the sounds of discomfort coming from behind the desk immediately send Emma’s heart pounding in fear and worry. She swore, if a Raider, Super Mutant, or runaway robot didn’t send her to an untimely grave, it was going to be her own heart giving out under the stress of Wasteland life. As it was, Emma carefully slid off of the table, biting back a groan at the simultaneous numbness and pain that flared up from her cramped legs, and tip-toed over so she could take a peek at Regina. It didn’t take Emma long to decide the brunette was having a nightmare—a pretty bad one by the looks of it. She was tossing and turning, grimacing, and Emma quietly cursed as she realized that Regina was going to end up hurting herself with Emma’s knife clamped in her waving hand. 

Carefully, Emma lay down the shotgun and sat down near Regina’s head, reaching through the feet of the table to take the knife. She didn’t want to wake Regina because the older woman could use the rest, but she couldn’t in good conscience let her wave a knife around in the hope she didn’t stab herself with it. Easing her fingers closer until she could cover Regina’s hand, she bit her lip as she took a hold of the blade, pulling gently until Regina let go with a whine. How anyone could sleep this deeply while out in the Wasteland was beyond Emma, but Regina wasn’t a Wasteland rat like her; she was used to protective walls and a soft bed. She wasn’t used to sleeping with one eye open and planting a knife into anything that moved. Good, the Wasteland needed people who weren’t jaded to the point of numbness.

Retracting her hand, Emma slid the knife back into her boot and eyed the door a moment. She could see it just fine from here, and as she settled herself more comfortably with her shotgun on her lap, she let her eyes drift over to the woman who was obviously still caught in her nightmare. Darkness flickered over features that were much softer in sleep than in waking, and Emma felt a tug at her heartstrings—something she truly could not afford. Her parents were out there, in the Wasteland, in trouble or dead, and she had to find them. She couldn’t get caught up with a pretty brunette and her son, couldn’t embed herself in a tight-knit community with a multitude of issues—including an angry ex-girlfriend. She shouldn’t think about things like this in the middle of the night when she always felt alone and vulnerable. In fact, she should get up and leave the other woman to her nightmares. As Regina whimpered again, however, a shiver tearing through her sleeping form, Emma knew that especially the latter was not going to happen.

Sighing softly, Emma slid her hand back through the legs of the table and brushed a lock of hair from Regina’s features, smiling at the beauty that became exposed. The brunette sighed and leaned into her a moment before she shivered again and the darkness returned. Leaning a little further in, Emma reached down to take the hand she had just pulled the knife from and felt strong and calloused fingers take a light hold. Gently, she rubbed Regina’s darker skin with her thumb, and felt the brunette settle. The tension faded off of her features and her body relaxed as it curled around Emma’s arm a little. It was adorable to watch, and Emma allowed herself to do so, knowing Regina would hate that Emma had seen her this vulnerable but unable to look away or take back her hand. She just sat, quietly, for the remainder of her shift, Regina’s hand burning in hers and the sleeping woman’s breath ghosting over her skin, and tried not to think about how good this felt.

When the small holes in the galvanized plates of the shed finally started to reveal light, Emma slowly retracted her hand and groaned audibly as she sat up a little straighter, every muscle in her body protesting the movement. She hurried to get up as Regina groaned and blinked open her eyes, heart in her chest because she didn’t want to get caught sitting next to Regina. She didn’t want to answer those type of questions—especially when she had absolutely zero answers to give.

“Is it time?” Regina asked, and the dark velvet in the brunette’s voice after a few hours of disuse made Emma’s heart pound for an entirely different reason. From where she had casually draped herself against the nearest desk, she nodded, keeping her face as straight as possible and her hands squarely on the edge of the table.

“Yeah, the sun is coming up. We should go.” She urged, and Regina nodded, sitting up. After a small pause in which she stretched, Regina’s eyes dropped down to the bedding and patted it. Emma suddenly remembered the knife in her boot.

“I took it back, you, uhhh… dropped it while you were sleeping. Didn’t want you to get hurt.” She explained quickly, tapping her boot and not meeting Regina’s eyes as she tried to fight the blush that threatened to reach her features. Why was she acting like a teenager with a crush? Emma questioned herself. It didn’t mean anything that she had just sat on the cold, hard, floor for two and a half hours holding Regina’s hand so the other woman wouldn’t have nightmares. It meant nothing at all.

“Thanks.” Regina answered softly, and Emma nodded, pushing off and busying herself with pulling the desk away from the door.

“Don’t mention it.” She answered gruffly, and hoped Regina really wouldn’t mention it ever again. Realizing she might have a teeny, tiny, crush on Storybrooke’s mayor was embarrassing enough as it was. As she turned her head to sneak a peek at Regina, she couldn’t help but think she caught a glimpse of a raised eyebrow before Regina smirked and stood, neatly folding the blankets as Emma loaded her shotgun and opened the door, stepping out—escaped—into the twilight to check the immediate surroundings of the shed. Archie was still there, in his tarp on the cart, and beyond that, the scrapyard seemed equally deserted as they had left it a few hours ago. Good. The fresh air, incidentally, was also good on her frayed nerves. 

“Regina? All’s clear. I’m going to pull the cart to where we got in last night. If these guys come back, they’re going to head here first and having to pick up the cart when they’re here could get messy.” Emma called out as loudly as she dared, hoping to buy herself another few minutes alone. 

“Alright, dear.” Regina called out in response, and Emma froze a moment, eyes squinting suspiciously. Was there a note of teasing amusement there? What was with the ‘dear’ all of a sudden? What was Regina playing at? Unfortunately, she couldn’t spot Regina as the older woman had turned off the lamp, leaving the inside of the shed darker than the outside world. Huffing, Emma chose to do the sensible thing and ignored the brunette, picking up the handlebar from the sandy ground and pulling the attached cart into motion, exiting the scrapyard through the nearby opening in the fence recalcitrantly. 

The cart was easier to manoeuvre than she had imagined it would be, and although it tended to get stuck in potholes and behind rocks, if she picked her route carefully, pulling the cart up the slope really wasn’t such an ordeal. That said, most likely they were not going to make it to Storybrooke before nightfall if they hauled it along—especially once it was loaded up with supplies. 

Worrying about the cart and their return journey along with her surroundings kept Emma blissfully distracted from her suddenly emerging feelings, and she was grateful. For once, the constant anticipation of an attack and the fear of imminent death were good things to her psyche. Even with the distractions, though, Emma still thought about that ‘dear’, and found herself hurrying back to Regina just to make sure she was okay on her own in the scrapyard.

By the time she had secured the cart, dropped herself down into the yard below where the fence and the wall met, and had gotten back to the shed, Regina had set out their packs and weapons—Emma’s jacket included, Emma realised happily—and closed the door the best she could. With the lock gone, it wasn’t exactly closing anymore. Emma couldn’t help the smirk that emerged at that. She felt a little steadier now, having had some distance to evaluate her own emotional turmoil, but laying eyes on Regina again made her aware just how screwed she was. The muscles in strong arms kept drawing her attention, dark eyes seemed to look straight through her, and Emma found herself with a need to kiss soft lips for entirely different reasons than sex—or additional ones at least. She was turning into fucking Ruby Lucas, and that was not exactly her plan.

“Okay, job done. Let’s get to work.” Emma pressed, hoping to hide her turmoil from Regina, who smirked.

“Not so fast, Savior. Here, breakfast.” She answered, throwing an apple towards Emma’s general direction. It had been ages since Emma had eaten a fresh apple—or a fresh any-type-of-fruit, actually—so she was very happy to go out of her way to catch the shiny red fruit thrown at her. Wide-eyed, she turned the apple around in her hands, glancing at Regina once before licking her lips and bringing it up to her mouth. Her inner turmoil was forgotten in the face of this beautiful gem in her hands.

“Thanks!” She gushed, taking a solid bite and moaning around it, happy as a kid. She knew anything grown fresh was irradiated to all hell, but she’d gladly up her radiation levels if it meant feeling the juices run down her chin, if it meant the taste of sparkling freshness that washed away her morning breath and the perpetual taste of ash and sand that lingered in her mouth. Fresh fruit was a true treat, and she lost all sense of her surroundings for long moments as she blissfully chewed her first bite.

When she blinked her eyes open, Regina was observing her, a soft smile on her features, but busied herself when green orbs settled upon her. She hoisted her backpack onto her back and looked around, but Emma caught her stealing glances, regardless. Whatever, Emma mused. She had an apple and it was beyond a doubt one of the highlights of these last few days—and most certainly one of the major highlights of the last few weeks. If she just focussed on her apple, then perhaps she could steady her emotional well-being and she wouldn’t get caught up in wishful thinking about Regina’s affection for her, nor the possibility of staying in Storybrooke.

Not wanting to squander the experience, Emma stood still and chewed down the whole of her apple—including the core—before she even moved again. Regina had started scouring the nearby piles of trash in the meantime, but Emma got the distinct feeling that the brunette was hovering, and not just to keep her safe. By the time she licked the juices off of her dirty fingers and sighed happily, the first rays of actual sunshine hit the top of the shed, and Emma was spurred into motion, suddenly aware of their deadline. Hurriedly, she geared up and got to work.

Although she was an excellent tracker, scavenging really wasn’t Emma’s strong suite. With the wealth of items available to her, however, it didn’t take long for her to gather a few basics—small tires, a couple of hammers, a motorcycle gas tank, some empty cans… They soon found a system where they loaded up their arms until they couldn’t carry anything else, then headed for the cart. Emma would climb the wall, Regina would hand her all the items, and Emma arranged them in the pull cart before dropping back down for another load. The only time Regina did a solo mission to the cart was when Emma found a locked ammo box hidden in one of the rusty car remains with the text ‘John’s Treasure Box’. Needless to say, that was a lock picking challenge she was not going to pass up on. 

Careful not to lose herself to the task completely, Emma forced herself to look up and around after every failed attempt, but all in all, it didn’t take too long to unlock the box. Inside were two manuals and a comic book that she used to love as a kid: Grognak The Barbarian. The manuals were an issue of ‘Guns and Bullets’ she hadn’t read yet, and a copy of the U.S. Army’s ‘30 Handy Flamethrower Recipes’ monthly magazine—well, before the war, of course. It was a very satisfying pay-out for her efforts, and when Regina came back, she attempted to hand her the comic book. Regina shook her head.

“Give it to Henry yourself; he’ll love you for it.” She explained, and Emma grinned, agreeing. The thought of making Henry happy—well, even happier after bringing his mom back—appealed to the blonde for reasons she vehemently refused to examine. She stashed the magazines in her backpack and returned to the job at hand, scavenging for about an hour longer before Emma became worried enough to voice her hesitations over staying in the scrapyard.

“So… I think maybe this should be the last of it?” She asked, helping Regina carry an insanely heavy piece of copper piping with one hand and carrying a tricycle in the other. Regina glanced at her, then the sky, and nodded.

“Perhaps you are right, Miss Swan.” She conceded, and Emma felt a weight lift off of her. She would fight anyone who threatened them, but if the situation could be avoided, they should make sure to do so; especially when they didn’t know who or what they could be facing.

After loading up the last batch of items, Emma helped Regina scale the wall and Emma took the handlebar as Regina took up guard duty. This way, Emma could mind her footing and pick out the best route for the cart while Regina kept them safe as they travelled.

The first part of the route was a bit of a nightmare as they had to get to the road. The terrain was bumpy and uneven and more than once, Emma got the top-heavy cart stuck. Regina helped her out on multiple occasions, and never really complained beyond a few snide remarks born of long years of sass—comments Emma shook off without a second thought—but Emma was still grateful to reach the road. At least here she could avoid the cracks and potholes a lot easier, and she wasn’t biting her tongue so much to keep the swearing down to a minimum. Traveling on or not, there was no reason to fully convince Regina that Emma was way below her standard by swearing like a sailor on shore leave every time the cart got stuck—or ran into her legs on a downward slope. Besides, the open road made her life easier to such a degree she was comfortable opening up the conversation again.

“Hey Regina, the apple… did you buy it or…?” She asked, and Regina smiled genuinely in her direction before returning her eyes to their surroundings.

“I grow them. There is a magnificent apple tree in our ‘back yard’. I’ve tended to it for many years, and its apples are truly the most wonderful ones I have ever eaten.” She answered, and Emma was happy to note there was genuine pride in Regina’s voice for her accomplishment—and keeping anything alive in the Wasteland truly was an accomplishment.

“Seriously? Well, you either have magic, or you made a deal with the devil, because that’s pretty amazing—and you’re right: that was the best damn apple I ever had.” Emma complimented, happy to have found something she was allowed to compliment Regina on, and the older woman laughed.

“No such thing, Savior.” Regina answered simply, then smirked with the tiniest of blushes. “Hard work, a lot of care, and regular trips for Brahmin dung, I fear.”

Emma laughed and shook her head, imagining Regina transport and shake out dung under the tree for nutrients. Well, whatever the case, she’d managed to do pretty much the impossible in the Capital Wasteland, and it deepened Emma’s admiration.

“Remind me to raid that tree before I go, will you?” Emma joked, and watched the laughter lines on Regina’s features freeze and become forced, even though the smile remained. If Emma hadn’t spent so much time observing Regina over the last few days, she would have missed the subtle crestfallen reaction, and she had to swallow down her emotions when she realized that perhaps Regina did not want her to go just as badly as she herself did not want to go. Regina cleared her throat a tad awkwardly.

“I would gladly give you some of my apples as a parting gift, Miss Swan. No need to lower yourself to raiding anything. My fruits are freely given.” Regina answered her with the sass strong in her voice, but there was a hidden layer even beyond the sexual innuendo that put Emma on edge. It seemed an invitation of sorts, to stake a claim to Regina that would be granted if she did. Emma looked away under the guise of scanning the horizon. She shouldn’t be looking at Regina right now, shouldn’t be having this conversation—and most of all, she shouldn’t be contemplating staking that claim—because she _was_ moving on. Her parents needed her, and Regina had a lot to sort out in Storybrooke. They would make each other miserable for sure; Emma wasn’t the staying type and they would resent each other for it before long.

“Good to know, Mayor Mills.” She answered, going for seductive as a desperate cover for her bubbling emotions, but she never quite got there. As a diversion, Emma ran herself aground in a pothole on purpose, killing the conversation and never reviving it afterwards.

Hours passed slowly and silently, and Emma almost started to wish for something to attack them. Once, they’d had to hide behind a rusty car wreck as an Enclave convoy passed them in the opposite lane, but that was the extent of the enemies they faced. Neither of them had been willing to take on the heavily armoured soldiers of the Wasteland, and they had gladly sat huddled together, arms touching through the fabric of their jackets, until the threat passed. Enclave soldiers didn’t always shoot you on sight, but when they did, you ended up severely messed up or very, very, dead. No need to tempt fate like that if some close proximity hiding did the trick. All in all, the encounter ended up not feeling like a distraction at all, but a quiet reprieve where they did not have to keep apart. Instead, they could sit close together and not look at each other without the need to explain. 

Hours later, by the time they rested for a quick five minutes, Emma voiced her concerns that it would start getting dark soon and they were still on the highway. If they pressed on, they would be travelling in the dark—well into the night, even, and not just in the twilight—and there were very few things more dangerous than that. The complete darkness of the Wasteland hid a lot of creatures with excellent low-light vision, and they weren’t amongst them. Regina’s sniper rifle would be useless, and Emma blindly shooting shotgun blasts into the night really did not seem appealing.

Regina sighed, obviously thinking about her boy, but asked what Emma suggested, regardless of her desire to hurry home to Henry.

“Well, I suggest we walk another hour or so, until the sun really starts to set, and then we head away from the highway towards those cliffs there.” Emma answered, pointing off in the distance. “We should be able to find some spot where we at least have the wall at our backs and maybe a bit of height so any critter has to crawl up first and we can hear it coming. I hope you’re not too tired for an entirely sleepless night, princess, because I doubt we’ll be sleeping much tonight—and not at all in the good way.” 

Regina smirked at that, jumping off of the car wreck and shaking out the clothes she had worn for three days straight now.

“Please, if anything, you know I’d be a queen, and I can stay awake if you can, Savior.” Regina sassed, and Emma—very happy to note her revelation had settled to such a degree her own sass was returning—snickered.

“Oh sure, I remember this one night where you remained awake for hours to pleasure—oh wait, that never happened because you fell asleep, _my queen_ ”. She teased, and anger flashed over Regina’s features a moment before she smirked merrily.

“That won’t happen again.” She promised, and Emma finally lowered herself to the ground as well, locking eyes with the challenging brunette. No matter the danger in her feelings, there was no denying Emma was insanely attracted to the brunette, and bantering about their physical attraction was a great way to curb her emotions.

“We’ll see, pillow princess.” She answered with a smirk, grabbing the handlebar again and pulling the cart into motion. Much more grimly she added a gentle reminder. “Let’s get through the night first.” 

The cliff face was a little father than Emma had expected it to be, and the twilight had settled heavily by the time they reached it. It also was less of a cliff face as a steep hill, but it did offer some hiding places. Still, the severity of the situation was not lost on Emma. Here they were, about to enter a night of exposure to the elements—the Wasteland got plenty cold at night, she knew from experience—without fire because they would be a target for anything with a gun, and with a man-sized chunk of predator lure at their feet. In essence, they were truly fucked, and Emma was not a happy camper—literally. She didn’t voice any of her concerns, though, opting not to worry Regina beyond what the highly intelligent woman would be able to piece together on her own.

“How about we try for that ridge up there? We can wrap ourselves in our blankets and leave the cart against the cliff face here. We would have a good look-out point and it would be hard to sneak up on us from the top. With a little luck, we’ll be able to spot anything coming at us from the ground.” Emma suggested, pointing to a rocky outcrop about half way up the hill which had formed a natural overhang they could huddle under. It was a small space, but it was the safest location she could see from here, and they really didn’t have the time to look on. Regina nodded, and Emma saw her jaw set. Somehow, she was quite sure Regina knew very well in how much danger they were.

Climbing the hill was a painful affaire for the blonde, who had spent the day hauling around a heavy cart. Her arms were sore, and putting her weight on them was beyond uncomfortable. She still took to the cliff face first, helping Regina up afterwards, although the brunette didn’t really need the help. Regina was a good climber and she had a good eye; she followed Emma’s steps and hoisted herself onto the small platform easily after the blonde let her pass. Emma hoisted herself up next, after handing Regina her backpack, sword, and weapon, and allowing the brunette a moment to arrange their items so everything would fit. Panting lightly, Emma gratefully sat down on the blanket that was meant to wrap around them both so there was at least a layer of protection between the cold rocks and they asses and backs. When Regina handed her her side of the second blanket, Emma drew it up over her legs for now, and leaned back, overlooking the empty Wasteland. 

There was beauty in the dusty void below; it held a promise of tenacity, of surviving where no one was meant to survive. When the bombs fell two hundred years ago—the result of a war between America and China—it was expected that no one outside of the fallout shelters would survive—but they had. Humans, animals, plants—all had somehow found a way to survive—mangled and distorted, but they had survived. There was a lesson in there, a lesson of hope, of new beginnings… of how life was always too strong to be extinguished fully.

“What are you thinking about?” Regina encouraged her lightly, causing Emma to look up and utter a confused ‘huh?’. “You were deep in thought, I was wondering what you were thinking about.”

“Oh… life, I guess. About how we should all be dead, but here we are, making a go at it? It ain’t pretty, and unless you’re a Ghoul, you certainly don’t live as long as before the war, but we’re still here. I was thinking that’s pretty inspirational.” Emma mused, and Regina smiled, leaning back into the rock.

“Philosophical of you, Miss Swan.” She acknowledged, and Emma shrugged.

“I have my moments…” She answered, and let the silence hang between them as Regina joined her in overlooking the Wasteland until the dark settled for real and anything beyond the foot of the cliff faded into shadows.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild gore and violence warning!

They kicked the night off with dinner. Regina’s miracle bag provided it again, and Emma was starting to wonder what else Regina had packed for the trip. As they were foregoing fire for another night, Regina handed Emma a pre-made pie, which she admitted not having made herself. It was one of Granny’s diner favourites and kept for a while after being made. Regina described the concoction as a ‘Mirelurk cake’.

Now, Emma was closely acquainted with Mirelurks; according to Moira in Megaton, the creatures were giant mutated horseshoe crabs, but Emma had seen images of crabs in her bio lessons while still in school in the vault, and the tiny critters had very little to do with the towering brutes, besides the fact that both had a very tough outer shells and sharp claws. She had harvested Mirelurk meat before—had eaten it, even—but cakes made with the stuff were new. 

“It’s a recipe Granny traded for, I think. She grew up in Rivet City where the cakes were invented. When we all came together and Storybrooke was re-populated—before I was born, mind you—she already knew how to make them. As a child, I always considered them quite the treat. They are better when eaten hot, but they should still be good.” Regina said, and Emma smiled gratefully, sniffing the fishy smelling pastry. She carefully took a bite and had to agree that this was a very good meal. It didn’t look like much, but it tasted all the better for it. After watching Emma take a few blissful bites, Regina took a bite out of hers as well, and leaned back, eating slowly to pass the time.

By the time the darkness had truly set in and the food was gone, Emma decided to break the silence again as she fingered the scabs on the healing wound on her arm. The bandages had come off somewhere during the day, and the healing flesh was itchy. 

“Regina? Gold; what he said… can I trust him? Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Emma asked in a whisper, glancing at Regina from the corner of her eye as she remained intimately aware of any place their bodies touched under the blankets. Regina sighed, staring dead ahead.

“Gold… Gold has his own agenda for everything. I think he told you the truth, yes, but that means very little with him… and stop picking at your injury; that scab is there for a reason” Regina eventually answered. Emma lowered her hand with a healthy eye-roll.

“It sounds like there is a lot of history between you two.” Emma prodded, and Regina looked at her a moment, judging if this was a tale worth sharing. She must have decided it was, because with hesitation, she started talking.

“Before Belle came to us—long before, actually—my mother dated him a little while. My father was already around, I think, but Cora didn’t decide between them for a while—not until she got pregnant and decided it had to be Henry’s. Oh—I named Henry after my father. He never met him, and it felt like a good way to commemorate him—I loved my father very much and his death pained me greatly.” Regina started, and Emma nodded.

“It’s a beautiful way to remember him.” She agreed, and fell silent again, hoping Regina would continue—which she did.

“Gold was angry, and he held it over my mother’s head for a long time, as well as over my father’s and myself. He blamed her for leading him on, and in a way she did. Gold holds grudges long past their expiration date, however, because he has since seen any action from my family as an offense. He hates that the people elected me Mayor, and he hates that I have a child. I think he wants one with Belle—his own son passed away a long time ago. That’s what we assume, anyway. Neal left one day, and he has never been seen since. He seems to take the fact that I have Henry as a personal offense.” Regina answered sharply, obviously tired of the impish man’s behaviour. 

“Seriously? That sounds like a pretty messed up way to go through life.” Emma answered. Regina snorted and nodded.

“It is.” She agreed.

“And Belle stays with him?” Emma asked, genuinely surprised. Regina nodded.

“Yes, she does, although she steps out on him with Ruby. Ruby told me she’s petrified of Gold ever finding out, but any time Belle comes to her, she lets her in, regardless. That girl is too soft for her own good.” Regina grumbled, and Emma licked her lips, feeling awkward again with her involvement in the complicated triangles that made up Storybrooke residents’ love lives.

“You like her, though…” She pushed, trying to sort out this little mess now they were talking about it anyway. She wasn’t staying, wasn’t going to fall in love with Regina, but it still seemed wise to find out what was between the two Storybrooke residents before she left again—just so she had all the facts, Emma promised herself.

“I do like, and appreciate, Ruby Lucas.” Regina told her, a note of pain in her voice—along with a lot of embarrassment, most likely over Emma having witnessed their rather public falling out. “I meant what I told you when we left for the scrapyard; I’m not in love with her. I never was. After Daniel, there were a lot of lonely nights. Ruby provided warmth I was missing, and along the way, she got attached. Do not misunderstand; I care about Ruby a great deal more than anyone else in Storybrooke—besides Henry—but we never spoke of a relationship, and we never promised each other more than stolen nights. My only sin was not realizing that I have come to mean more to Ruby than she to me.” 

They sat in silence for a while as both mulled over Regina’s words. Emma couldn’t find fault with them—not that it was her place to judge anyway; she was just a newcomer. She hadn’t felt good in suddenly being cast as ‘the other woman’, but with Regina’s explanation, she wasn’t even that. Just someone who had come along and had shared Regina’s bed—that was all she had signed up for anyway. She didn’t regret it, but she wished this feeling in her chest would go away; that she didn’t long for the moments of intimacy more than the moments of pleasure.

“I’m sorry I messed up a good thing for you.” She eventually said, and Regina surprisingly reached out to lay a cool hand on hers over the shotgun Emma had taken a hold of to keep from scratching her arm. Emma swallowed, staring down at their entwined hands instead of into Regina’s eyes.

“It’s alright, Emma, truly. I never wanted there to be feelings between Ruby and myself, and although I wish they had been exposed a little less… publicly, the situation also provided a nice, clean, break. As long as Ruby has her anger, she will get over her infatuation quickly.” Regina offered, and Emma nodded. She forced herself to ask the question burning in her mind.

“Would you ever… you know… want another relationship?” She asked, and Regina sighed, withdrawing her hand. Emma bit her lip at the loss, but was thankful for it as well. It was easier to think when it was just their shoulders brushing, their knees connecting. The direct contact of skin-on-skin made Emma’s heart beat too loudly for her to think properly.

“After Daniel died, I vowed I would never fall for anyone again. I would never leave myself that vulnerable… but now… I’m not so sure. Perhaps, if the right person came along…” Regina answered, and let a pregnant silence fall between them—a silence Emma did not have the guts to fill. Instead, the silence dragged on and the moment to ask for clarification passed. 

It wasn’t until a head sank lightly against her shoulder about an hour later that Emma even acknowledged Regina again. The other woman was dozing off, Emma realized, and she couldn’t blame her. If Emma didn’t have her worries and tumbling thoughts, she would undoubtedly be half asleep as well. Regina’s head shot up right away, and Emma turned to look at her, smiling into the darkness.

“Sorry…” Regina said softly, and Emma shook her head. 

“It’s okay. I’m pretty awake, why don’t you rest your eyes a bit? I’ll wake you if anything happens.” She offered, and Regina scanned her eyes a moment before nodding. She rested her head again, pulling the blankets tighter around her in an effort to ward off the lowering temperature, but couldn’t seem to get comfortable on a bony shoulder. Emma moved a bit and Regina lifted her head questioningly. Licking her lips, Emma awkwardly slid her arm around Regina’s shoulders and pulled the other woman into her a little. This time, it didn’t take Regina long to settle, and Emma ignored the stab of pain in the general vicinity of her heart as she realized that tomorrow, she would be without this again—without the intimate contact of another… without Regina. 

“Thank you.” Regina whispered, curling into Emma a little to get more comfortable on the small ledge, and Emma pressed her lips together to keep from blurting out things she shouldn’t. After a short delay, she answered the brunette, who was already half asleep.

“No problem, princess.” She whispered, and Regina shoved at her hip with her hand, causing Emma to smirk. After that, though, they settled into silence while Emma was kept wide awake by her thoughts and emotions, and Regina slept comfortably in her arms—again.

Some time later, Emma found herself thinking about silence—about how everything had always seemed so quiet in the Vault, but it never had been. There had always been machines running, the air vents buzzing, the sound of voices that carried easily through said vents and echoed off of the walls… she had emerged from the Vault in awe with the silence, but not even the nights were entirely silent here. The wind played with the scenery, causing a whistling sound to rise up from cracks and corners; animals howled and scurried about, and sometimes the sound of a weapon discharging in the distance broke the quiet. It was never truly silent, especially now she had the sound of regular breathing in her ear, coupled with tiny sounds that emerged from the brunette. Silence was overrated, Emma decided.

It were those very same noises that lulled Emma’s vigilance, however. It took her a while to realize that the soft huffs of dispelled air she was hearing weren’t Regina’s. In fact, the sound of rock scraping over rock and shuffling couldn’t be Regina’s. With her blood freezing in her veins, Emma slowly brought her hand up and clamped it over Regina’s mouth, waking her in the process. Regina shoved at her lightly, and Emma removed her hand, bringing a finger to her lips. Regina nodded and sat up, allowing Emma to free her arm and take up her shotgun. Carefully—very carefully—she hoisted herself up into a crouching position and looked down over the edge, feeling her heart stop entirely a moment. 

Below her, bathing in moonlight, was a Yao Guai. Moira had told her the animals were mutated descendants of the American Black Bear, and unlike with the Mirelurks, she could see the resemblance. Even with their greenish, festering, skin, and their ragged fur, the animals moved as the bears she had seen footage of in class. This one, for example, sniffed the air around the cart, raising himself up to land heavily upon it with his two front paws—both bearing razor sharp claws. His muscles bulged in the moonlight, and Emma cursed silently. She had put the monsters down before but usually with a bit more distance between her and them—and preferably a fence they couldn’t breach quickly. Regina had reached for her gun as well, and had carefully lined up a shot. This close, a sniper rifle was much harder to control, Emma knew, but any shot counted. This was one adversary Regina wasn’t putting down with one bullet.

“Three…” Emma started under her breath. Regina tensed next to her, inhaling and exhaling along with Emma’s countdown. “Two… one…”

Their first shots rang out simultaneously, both sinking deep into the bear, who growled in pain, raising himself up. Emma took another shot right away as Regina reloaded, planting it squarely in the mutation’s chest. Another roar and then the Yao Guai was charging the hill, still very much alive. Emma’s next shot missed, and this close, the sniper rifle proved more bothersome than helpful. As such, Emma watched in horror as the creature came close enough to lash out before throwing his entire weight against the rocky platform they were seated on. Regina had been leaning back to gain as much distance as possible, but Emma—who had been leaning forward to line up a shot straight to the nuzzle—couldn’t balance herself as the platform rattled under her.

Before she could release the shotgun and grab a hold of something, Emma felt herself tumbling forward, hitting the rocks below as she slid down, straight into the path of the Yao Guai who was getting back to his feet after crashing down the hill himself, shaking his head to clear the pain from it. Emma lost her grip on her shotgun, but as she came to a halt on her back at the bottom of the hill, she was of sound enough mind to reach for her knife, even as she heard Regina yell out her name frantically. 

There was nowhere to go, that was for damn sure. Emma wasn’t even scared. Instead, a calm fell over her after her original tumble, even though her heart was racing. She scrambled to align herself with the towering mutant and counted heartbeats as he sniffed her out. She knew that his eye-sight was worthless, but his nose was amongst the sharpest in the Wasteland—he would locate her in seconds.

One heartbeat, the huge bear swung his head towards her general direction. Two heartbeats, his muscles strained as Emma brought her knife up above her head with two hands. Three heartbeats and he sprinted towards her. Four heartbeats and his claws sunk into her legs as she screamed in agony, bringing down the knife into the monster’s shoulder, missing the neck due to her pain. Four heartbeats, and Emma tried to withdraw her knife as pain seared through her. Five heartbeats and the monster raised himself up, pulling the knife from Emma’s hands. Six heartbeats and Emma knew it was all over. The animal lowered himself with a roar, ready to sink his claws into her chest, and Emma could do nothing but watch it happen—something she refused to do. 

Seven heartbeats and imminent death did not come. Instead, Emma heard shuffling and a loud yelp, causing her eyes to fly open. Greeting her was a sight she’d never thought she’d see—Regina standing protectively over her, Emma’s bloody sword in hand. The Yao Guai had circled off, and Emma could see him batting his nose protectively, heard him whine as he shook his head, trying to clear the pain from it—again. 

It took Emma a second to understand that she wasn’t dead, that Regina’s bravery—and absolute stupidity—had extended her life a few seconds. It were seconds, Emma realized, she should make use of, and with a pained groan, she twisted her body to locate her shotgun. Her heart sped up into an even more frantic gallop as she located it perhaps five feet off, and dragged her mangled legs behind her as she pulled herself towards it on her elbows, trying to get her legs to work a little better than they did—and failing. Her legs weren’t working right, and the left was laid out at a weird angle.

The Yao Guai growled and lowered his head, getting ready to pounce Regina, who actually stepped _forward_ and never even lowered the sword. Emma forgot about her pain in the face of a certain death for the brunette, and heaved herself the last feet through the dirt. She reached out for the shotgun, pulled it to her, loaded it through and fired. She fired and watched the bullets impact into the putrid skin of the creature. She fired and saved Regina’s life by confusing and wounding the monster long enough for it to slow down so she could get more shots in. She fired and felt her legs burn with the strain her position put on them, but she only stopped when the Yao Guai sank through his front legs, and even then, she fired until the shotgun just made clicking sounds every time she pulled the trigger. She fired until she realized he wasn’t getting back up again, then halted herself, head reeling, and tossed the shotgun to the side. Eyes finally left the animal that had gotten so close to being her demise, and she dragged them over to Regina, who stood trembling, sword still raised, eyes on the creature.

“Regina.” She said roughly, spooking the brunette out of her shock. The sword dropped to the dirt, and Regina turned around, tears springing to her eyes as she laid eyes on Emma.

“Emma…” She gasped, and Emma instinctively opened her arms as she forced herself to stay raised up a little from the ground, despite the pain. She forced herself not to pass out from broken bones and loss of blood, from torn muscles and ripped skin. It was all worth it when Regina rushed over and fell into the dirt—fell into her arms, and pulled her close.

“Oh, Emma…” Regina sobbed, and Emma wrapped her arms tightly around the shaking brunette, who burrowed into her. Emma felt her ragged breathing in her neck, and felt the weight of the world fall off of her instantaneously. She was alive, Regina was alive. The rest, they would sort out later. Yao Guai usually travelled alone, so Emma wasn’t too worried about another one wandering in for the buffet. That said, she was still hurt—something Regina also realized. She shot up, pushed Emma down, and searched her body with her eyes, easily spotting the blood pooling at Emma’s upper legs and the weird angle her left leg was in. 

“You’re hurt!” Regina gasped, and Emma grinned, despite the pain.

“I should have been dead, so, you know, I’ll take it.” Emma said, and wasn’t surprised when Regina slapped at her arm, causing Emma to raise them up protectively. She was feeling giddy and light—alive. Of course, that was also a sign of advanced blood loss. “…That said, I could use a stim pack or two?”

“Of course!” Regina rushed out, jumping up and scaling the hill easily, leaving Emma alone for a moment to make her peace with the fact she was still alive. The events of the last minute ran through her mind, and she suddenly realized that Regina must have seen Emma fall, had dropped her rifle, had grabbed Emma’s _sword_ , and thrown herself between Emma and a fucking _Yao Guai_. By the time Regina fell at her side again, Emma was furious enough to yank at her arm with a painful grip. Regina met her eyes with confusion and defiance, and Emma was absolutely sure Regina knew what was coming next.

“Listen carefully, okay? I am very grateful not to be dead, but if you ever—ever—risk your life for me again, I swear to God I will come and get you back from death himself and slap you so hard, you will be wishing you had let me die. Do you understand me? God damn it, Regina! You have a _son_! You should have just let me die. He would have left you alone and tomorrow, you would have gotten back to Henry. This is the Wasteland! You don’t risk your life for someone you’ve known for two days; not when you have a little kid to get home to who I promised— _I promised_ —I would protect his mom so she came home to him!” She raged as the shock wore off, still gripping Regina’s arm painfully hard. Regina’s face turned from tearful to thunderous in seconds, and she pried Emma’s hand away from her arm purposefully.

“Now you listen to me, Miss Swan.” Regina returned icily as her hands busied themselves with uncapping the rusty syringe of the stimulation delivery package. “You are out here because of me. You are here because you chose to help me. There was no way I was going to let you get mauled to death by that… that… monster.”

Regina sank the syringe into Emma’s right leg without mercy, and Emma winced, her snide reply dying in the face of a new load of pain as mauled flesh was penetrated by the stim pack. Right away, though, the wounds in her leg pulled shut, and Regina raged on as she pulled out the syringe, uncapping another for Emma’s left leg.

“I already lost one friend to this wasteland recently, and I’ll be damned if I let it claim another.” She concluded, snapping Emma’s leg back into place before quickly sinking the second syringe into Emma’s body. Emma screamed out in agony, then settled as the pain ended. These wounds reknitted as well, and Emma sighed blissfully. She wanted to wave off the third stim pack, but Regina shushed her before she could even think to protest. Pushing up Emma’s shirt to expose a toned abdomen, Emma braced herself for the sharp pain that followed, clawing at the ground as the syringe sank deep inside her belly, releasing its load to be beneficial to the whole of her body. She sank back into the dirt, panting, as Regina pulled back the syringe and fell back into the dirt herself, panting as well, three empty stim packs at her side. 

They eyed each other stubbornly, both thinking their reasoning had been right—but what had happened, had happened. They had survived because of their joined effort, and somewhere along the way, they had revealed far too much of their feelings towards each other. There was care there—care beyond the regular care you took of a traveling companion. Emma doubted Regina would jump in front of one of the Capital Wasteland’s most deadly predators with a sword she had no idea how to use for just anyone, and the level of fear the action had caused in Emma had been impossible to hide. So, where did they go from here?

“Jesus…” Emma groaned, closing her eyes a moment to the experience she’d just had, and Regina chuckled. 

“Agreed, Miss Swan.” Regina said lightly, leaning back on her hands and prodding Emma’s leg with her foot. “How are you feeling?”

Emma tried her legs experimentally, and although they felt stiff and her pants were ruined, there wasn’t any pain anymore. She brought her arm up, checked her Pip-Boy and found herself in perfect health. Even the wound on her arm was fully healed.

“All good.” She announced, and Regina smiled at her, her eyes far too emotive for Emma’s comfort levels. 

“I’m glad to hear it.” She answered softly, and Emma cleared her throat. 

“Yeah, well, you still could have been dead, so…” Emma huffed as she got up, dusting herself off and pulling her pants away from her bloody legs with a disgusted face. She trailed over to the Yao Guai and kicked it over onto its side, pulling her knife from its shoulder with difficulty. She’d really sunk that in there. 

“But I didn’t die, Emma! And neither did you!” Regina called after her, also getting up, and Emma huffed as she slid the bear’s throat with disgust, making very, very, sure it was dead before she went for the meat that the monster provided. Once you got below the ghoulified skin, the meat was very good and she was sure Granny would want to purchase it off of her.

“That’s not the point.” Emma gritted out as she worked, refusing to look back. She knew she was being childish, that Regina was right, but for the second time in as many days, she had almost died, and because of her, Regina had almost died as well. Some protector she was; some Savior. 

A sharp yank to her arm caused Emma to spin around, bloody knife still in hand, and she watched Regina sink to her knees in her space, unable to speak in the few seconds that passed before Regina’s mouth crashed against hers and Regina whimpered, holding on to the side of her face with stained hands that trembled lightly. Instinctively, Emma swallowed and pulled Regina closer with the hand not holding her knife, drowning in a firm press of lips upon hers and breath that ghosted across her skin. Regina pulled away as suddenly as she had leaned in and left Emma panting, her head reeling.

“No,” Regina agreed. “…the point is that I sat on that rock and watched you fall down right in front of _that_ … and I realized I was going to lose you. I know you are going away, I know you are leaving tomorrow… but at least then I know you _could_ come back to me. There is no coming back from death—believe me, I wished for it with Daniel—and I couldn’t let that happen. I knew it was dangerous, I knew what you promised my son… but I couldn’t let you die. I just couldn’t. I wasn’t thinking… ” 

Regina’s confession, made with tears and breath that huffed against Emma’s skin, reached down to her heart and _squeezed_ until Emma’s heart felt like it was about to break. She felt tears well up in her eyes as well, but refused to spill them until she claimed Regina’s mouth again, feeling Regina part her lips below hers and she accepted the invite. They were both covered in blood, shaken to the core, surrounded by the dead, and still in danger—but for now, they kissed, and the world fell away. They kissed until they were sated to the point of needing so much more, until hands reached for clothing and pulled, until bodies pressed close together, and until hard swipes of tongue were suddenly no longer enough. They kissed until they were short of breath and their tears dried.

“You are an idiot.” Emma whispered, and Regina smiled, not saying the words Emma knew she wanted to say. That Regina was _her_ idiot, if she would have her. 

“I saved your life, though.” Regina replied, and Emma smirked, pulling her in for another kiss. 

“That you did, princess. That you did. Now let me get this meat off of this bastard, and we’ll wait out the rest of the night. We’ll deal with this—all of this—tomorrow, okay?” Emma asked, and Regina nodded, reeling herself back and getting a hold of her emotions again. Emma was grateful, because as much as these revelations elevated her spirit, she knew she was leaving, and knowing her budding feeling were returned only made things harder in the long run.

“Alright, Miss Swan.” Regina answered, distancing herself physically and emotionally as she stood and made use of the term of endearment she had settled on for Emma. Emma smiled at her gratefully, then sighed and nodded to incite her own determination. With difficulty, she turned back to the Yao Guai and lost herself in her task, even though she remained painfully aware of Regina’s movements behind her as she gathered and cleaned weapons, dragged then up the hillside again, and came back with some empty cans for Emma to stuff the meat into. Emma worked diligently in the dark, cutting rough cuts of meat and trying to forget about her predicament. It worked for a while, and Regina gave her the space to forget. 

Once they had carried the cans back to the cart and stuffed them away safely, they climbed the hillside again, and sat down. This time, there was no awkwardness as Emma wrapped an arm around Regina’s shoulders and pulled her into her, nor was there any hesitation on Regina’s part to wrap an arm around Emma’s abdomen and curl her legs up into hers.

They sat together quietly for a while, Emma with her shotgun on her lap under the blankets, Regina with the sniper rifle next to her. They stared out into the Wasteland, lost in thought but far more vigilant, and listened to signs of life from the other—Regina for Emma’s heartbeat, and Emma for Regina’s breathing.

“I know you watched over me last night.” Regina suddenly whispered, and Emma’s heart skipped a beat as heat flared up her features. Emma thanked the darkness for its cover as she licked her lips.

“Hm?” She asked, pretending she hadn’t heard Regina’s words. She had—very clearly—but it was easier not to acknowledge them when her mind raced to find out what she should do next. Regina wasn’t moving, though, just remained settled into her.

“Thank you.” Regina added, not repeating her words. Emma sighed, leaning her head back against the rock in defeat.

“You’re welcome.” She whispered, and Regina pressed a little closer to her, huddling under the blankets with her and humming softly in acknowledgment. With her thoughts overflowing, Emma waited out the rest of the night, aware Regina fell asleep a few hours before dawn.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!

By the time breakfast rolled around, it almost seemed as if nothing had happened. They had extracted themselves from the other with pained groans as muscles protested and for all intents and purposes, it appeared they had just sat pressed so close together all night for the warmth that had indeed been very welcome. They had decided to eat away from the stench of the decomposing Yao Guai which had brought them so close to death and each other last night; the meat kept for extended periods of time, but soon after death, the heavily irradiated skin putrefied and started rotting away. Emma had spent the last hour or so controlling her gag reflex whenever the wind blew the scent up the hillside, and she had insisted on traveling at least a short distance before sinking her teeth into anything. One whiff of the Yao Guai and Regina had agreed.

As such, they had found a few boulders about half way between the cliffs and the highway and settled on them—faces towards the sun in an effort to warm up internally. Blissfully, Emma bit down on her second apple in as many days and gave up on trying to discover how Regina managed to keep them so pristine in her backpack. Instead, she savoured the taste and feel of fresh fruit like she had done yesterday and stretched out her legs, hoisted into a fresh pair of pants.

Below her jeans, she was still covered in blood from last night’s events, but upon examining the damage to her ruined pants this morning, she had decided that she couldn’t walk around the Wasteland in scraps. There had been some minor awkwardness as Emma had peeled the scraps from her legs, had tossed them onto the cart, and had fished out a semi-fresh pair of pants from her backpack. For two people who had already slept together and had pretty much made declarations of love, suddenly having one of them in her underwear sure was an interesting social experiment.

Without last night’s events, Emma was sure Regina would have had some sexually charged remark for the situation—hell, without last night’s events, _she_ would have had a sexually charged remark about the situation—but last night had very much happened, and both had kept their mouth shut. Still, Emma had caught Regina trying not to look at her ass as she bend over. It was a mess because more than last night, what was keeping them apart now were Emma’s plans to move on. Without them, Emma knew, there wouldn’t have been any awkwardness at all. Emma was itching to touch, and she was pretty sure Regina felt the same way. Emma’s departure, however, caused both of them to guard their hearts—and that of the other woman—by not engaging… or so Emma thought. 

“Emma… about last night…” Regina started, and Emma froze half way through her bite, heart leaping up as she refused to acknowledge the words. Regina sighed next to her, sitting up straight from where she had been leaning back into the sunlight. “You know this won’t magically go away if we don’t talk about it, right?” 

“Can we try?” Emma answered around her bite, only half joking. Regina snorted next to her, then shook her head understandingly.

“No, I’m sorry. Before long, we’ll be traveling again, and then there will be all of Storybrooke’s distractions and I am afraid that if we don’t talk now, we will not only waste the little time we have left together, but make each other miserable as well.” Regina answered, and Emma sighed, finally looking over and finding the woman’s emotive eyes. She wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees and sighed, nodding slowly.

“Okay, let’s talk.” She agreed, but internally, she was screaming, wishing she could cover her ears or run away. All this grown-up ‘discussing your feelings’-crap was not for the emotionally closed of blonde who had never had anyone to teach her how it was done.

“Alright… I understand that means I go first. Well, it’s quite simple, Emma. I’m falling for you, and I know that it’s moronic and that I should know better but here we are. I started out finding you beautiful and attractive, then the Super Mutant scare happened and I started to fear for you. When you offered to take care of Archie’s body, I saw the strength and caring in you, and when you sat with me during the night… well… it just happened. I tried to fight it but then there was the Yao Guai, and your injuries… I can’t pretend not to care about you anymore.” Regina said, starting out gruffly, but ending up at a far more emotional place very quickly. Emma swallowed, feeling the words land like sledgehammers to the chest—and she’d been the subject of plenty a sledgehammer blow in her travels. Super Mutants loved them, after all.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings—as an excuse just as much as a precaution—and slowly the seconds ticked away. Emma knew she had to talk, that such a clear statement of intent and emotion needed to be rewarded with an equal message—but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the words, didn’t have the guts. Everything in her screamed to get up and run, but she had enough decency to at least not do _that_. So she sat, frozen, and Regina stirred next to her eventually. A soft hand landed on her arm, and Emma jumped.

“Emma… talk to me. Please?” Regina asked, and Emma licked her lips, swallowing against her tears. She wished she could kick her brain into gear, that she could do more than feel numb and overwhelmed—but here she was.

“I can’t.” She whispered, and Regina sighed in frustration. The hand withdrew and Regina slid off of the rock. 

“Fine, I can’t make you. Tell me when your head comes out of your ass, Emma, and you’re ready to stop running away from a good thing, because if I left you cold, you wouldn’t act like this.” Regina told her sharply, and walked off, heading back to the highway on her own—leaving Emma and the cart in the dust. Cursing, Emma jumped up, grabbed the now-familiar handlebar and yanked her load forward, jogging to catch up again as she wished she wasn’t such a pathetic waste of space. Regina was right, she knew; she was wasting a good thing, and she _did_ really like Regina. Even with that knowledge, she didn’t open her mouth once she caught up to the pissed off brunette, and the next few hours were spent in thorny silence that weighed heavily on Emma—because it most certainly was her fault they were in this predicament. She was wasting her last few hours with Regina, and she hated it.

They hardly exchanged more than a handful of words before they reached the outskirts of Storybrooke. Emma could only recount a quick warning from Regina about a suddenly emerging Radscorpion—which Emma took down her usual way and saw Regina bite her tongue to keep from commenting on her heroics—and a few loose words of thanks or frustration when the cart got stuck _again_. Emma felt like she was being crushed under the weight of her failure. Regina made it abundantly clear that if they were talking—or doing anything else—it was up to Emma, and Emma couldn’t make herself open up. She _wanted_ to, but it was like there was a physical barrier in her mind that prevented her from even opening her mouth.

By the time Storybrooke’s outer wall came into view, Regina sighed and shook her head, walking the last few feet a step ahead of Emma, plastering a smile onto her face that only became sincere when Henry’s young voice rose up from beyond the wall and he suddenly came into view, running out towards Regina, who ran towards him as well, caching him in her arms and pressing him to her chest, peppering his head with kisses. Emma watched them a moment, her heart swelling, before she remembered that she was pushing this beautiful woman away for no good reason beyond her own insecurities, and suddenly she had to look away to keep from screaming—at herself, or Regina, or her parents, she wasn’t sure who she was mad at right now. 

She dragged the cart the last few feet, passing the two interlocked people without meeting any eyes. She still felt dark orbs burn into her back, and when Henry called out to her, she reluctantly came to a halt just outside the gate, aware of the eyes settling on her from beyond the gate. She wondered if any of them were Ruby’s.

“Emma! Emma, wait!” Henry called out, and she turned, her eyes finding Regina’s for a second before she hurriedly looked away and found Henry’s. Before she could ask what Henry wanted, he threw his arms around her waist and settled his head into her sternum. Knowing how terrible it felt not to be hugged back when you hugged someone, Emma wrapped her arms around Henry’s shoulders and pulled him close until he pulled back his head and looked up at her.

“Thank you, for keeping her safe.” He told her, and she smiled.

“She saved my life twice, kid. She didn’t need me there at all.” Emma said, swallowing against her emotions and self-hate, and with pain in her eyes, she met Regina’s—Regina, who had walked up to them and was regarding her with an unreadable face that cracked once she spoke.

“Don’t listen to her, Henry. She was indispensable.” Regina said softly, the words heavy, and Emma dropped her eyes, unable to stand up against another declaration while she felt so guilty. So worthless. She clenched her jaw and held Henry close when he burrowed into her again. Fighting her own issues, she met Regina’s gaze again and held it—unwavering this time. It wasn’t much, but it was something, she mused.

When Henry pulled back, she let him go, keeping a hand on his shoulder as he helped draw the cart the last of the way. Regina settled her arm around his shoulders from the other side and Emma was acutely aware of the way her hand was pressed between son and mother, and how easily she fit into their family unit—fit in a way she had never fit anywhere before. The pain that summoned in her manifested physically, and carefully she pulled her hand back, not sure she deserved this kind of inclusion. 

Ruby was throwing daggers at them when they passed the town line, and Emma met her gaze stubbornly, although she felt her guilt intensifying. She had taken a good thing away from Ruby—who looked withdrawn and very young, draped against the wall and never truly looking up at her, just from the side, from under her curtain of hair—and perhaps, she had taken it away for nothing. She tried to keep in mind Regina’s words—that she had never meant to let her affair with Ruby go as far as it had—but they didn’t make her feel much better about herself. As the town’s people surrounded Regina, Henry, and the cart solemnly but obviously happy to have Regina back safe and sound, she side-stepped the group and disappeared into the houses beyond, leaving the towners to their reunion with their Mayor, and with the friend they had lost.

Emma didn’t attend the funeral. She also did not feel like trespassing in Regina’s house, and so she wandered the small space that was Storybrooke for a while and eventually ended up climbing the low fence into Regina’s yard, spotting the apple tree Regina had mentioned. It was beautiful, still bearing fruit, and Emma felt the strength leave her legs as she caught sight of it. She sagged down to the ground, fence at her back, backpack discarded to the side, and drew her legs up as she found herself unable to look away from the mangled and mauled tree that had the tenacity to grow in the Wasteland—where nothing grew. She felt like the tree was trying to tell her something, that the rustling of leaves and the swaying of branches tried to instil something in her she simply did not have the mental capacity to understand. It—like everything—seemed to be mocking her by doing the impossible while she wallowed in self-pity and made a fool of herself. Emma was stubborn and prone to get herself in dangerous situations, but she wasn’t brave—not really, not about things like this. She preferred facing another Yao Guai to facing _this_.

As a loud bell sounded monotonously—indicating that the man whose face she could picture easily, bloated and distorted as it was—Emma felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. She suddenly felt so young—much younger than she had felt in years. She felt younger than when she had escaped the vault… and she had been very young then, especially emotionally. She had grown up so quickly after that—been forced to learn to shoot, learn to kill. She had learned how to survive and never to trust anyone… and then she had met Regina.

With eyes that were cloudy with tears, she observed the tree, the rough bark, badgered by sharp sunlight and radiation, saw the faded green of the leaves, and the way strong roots penetrated the dry soil. She was so tired—tired of running for her life since emerging from the vault, of always being strong, of always being on her guard. She’d been tough and impenetrable for so long she had forgotten how to be soft and open. Really, had she ever been soft and open? With all the reluctant foster families in her past, she’d never felt safe enough to be, she realized. Intently, she imprinted the bright red of the apples in front of her into her brain as something beautiful, something precious, and suddenly she understood what the tree tried to tell her. 

She was like the tree—she had made her skin impenetrable, had buried her life force deep inside of her where it could be kept safe. She had been discarded, passed around, and left behind since she’d been a child. She had done horrible things in her time in the Wasteland—things she had never thought she would be capable of. Her bark was rough and thick, and cutting through it was almost impossible. She was strong, though—she had survived. She had endured every hardship, and along the way, she had produced apples of her own—she had done good, had impacted others; she had saved people. Those acts were _her_ apples.

With a shaky hand and huge trepidation, she activated her Pip-Boy and softly turned on Galaxy News Radio, waiting as she listened to the last few tones of ‘Crazy He Calls Me’ by Billie Holiday, and then sat through the whole of ‘I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire' by The Ink Spots before Three Dog howled on the air. She had always avoided listening to the radio because she didn’t want to hear Three Dog go on about her accomplishments, but she needed to hear about them now, from someone neutral, someone whose eyes weren’t clouded by self-hate and insecurity. His too-chipper voice was almost painful to her ears and brain when he finally spoke, and Emma lay her arm across her knees—eyes on the tree—as she listened with a set jaw, blinking back tears stubbornly.

 _"Hellooooo, Capital Wasteland! This is Three Dog, coming to you loud and proud from Galaxy News Radio."_ He announced excitedly before he launched into what Emma had been waiting for. _"Know what I've decided, children? I'm gonna start a book club. Right... now! Wanna join? Good, cause you got no choice! Our first masterpiece is called 'The Wasteland Survival Guide', written by Megaton's own Moira Brown. Oh, and, get this—researched and co-authored by none other than—yep, you guessed it—that tenacious teenager from Vault 101. Now, let me tell ya. This thing's got all sorts of useful tips. Where to find food, how to deal with radiation, tons o' stuff. Survive, Thrive, and Revive, that's the name of the game. The book is the Wasteland Survival Guide! Pick up your copy today!"_

Soon, the DJ’s excited voice faded and the music started back up. With the emotions heavy in her throat, Emma shut off the radio again, staring at the tree as she mulled his words over in her head. Regina had been right; the people needed someone—needed a hero. Those were her apples. She produced apples. 

With that admission came the realization that she was being a complete idiot. She was wasting her time with Regina, was pushing her away out of fear and inexperience, and that was the last thing she should be doing. Emma scrambled to her feet, arranging her shotgun onto her back, and rushed towards the house without a clear plan in mind; she felt the urgency of her own thoughts prodding at her, though. With a pounding heart, she pulled open the unlocked back door—in a town like Storybrooke, who would need to lock their doors, after all?—and looked around. She was over her hesitation to enter—she _wanted_ to be included now. The house was quiet, and Emma found herself faltering—she remembered the funeral she couldn’t interrupt, and even if she could, what was she going to say to Regina in public? On the other hand, if she waited, she might lose her nerve again to at least start making amends for being a complete asshat.

Thankfully, the universe finally decided to repay her for every gunshot, for every Yao Guai attack, for every Super Mutant who had ever attempted to take her head off: as she stood in the living room, frozen with indecision, Henry—head down as Pongo jumped excitedly at his feet—entered the house and faltered when he laid eyes on her, causing Regina to bump into him.

“Emma? Are you okay?” He asked, looking up at his mom in confusion. Emma wondered how dishevelled she looked right now, fidgeting on the spot, trying to keep it together long enough not to tear at the seams.

“Yeah, I just… could I talk to your mom a moment?” She requested, and Henry looked at her questioningly, then slid his eyes to the woman in question. He really was his mother’s son, she realized, because Regina matched his expression flawlessly.

“Henry, why don’t you go to your room for a bit and let me talk to Emma?” Regina suggested, and Henry nodded, rushing up the stairs and closing the door audibly so the two adults knew they were alone. Pongo was left at the bottom of the staircase, looking up and whining softly.

“Alright, I’m listening.” Regina responded, arms wrapping around herself and her eyes guarded. Emma felt her courage falter, hating that she had hurt Regina to begin with, and aware that even with her revelation, she was still Emma Swan, and she would never be able to express herself well enough to explain what was in her head to another person. She was going to try, though—she had to. She had to at least try making this right.

“I’m a tree.” She blurted out, and Regina’s mouth curled in confused amusement as dark eyes watched her intently. “I’m a tree and you—you are so special. I don’t want our last hours to be what we’ve been doing today—not talking, being miserable. I want to be with you—and Henry—and remember everything.” 

She paused to take a deep breath and stepped closer to Regina, who allowed her to take her hands. Regina gripped them in response, and Emma smiled, feeling her heart leap up in her throat.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t… that I’m so bad at this. I’m sorry you said all those things and I couldn’t talk—still can’t, really, but… what I wanted to tell you is that you make me feel like I have apples to give. That’s important.” Emma added, as if that explained anything, and Regina squeezed her hands, her eyes softening. Emma felt as if a weight lifted from her chest at just that.

“I do not understand half of what you just told me, Emma—less even—but if you are asking for my forgiveness, you have it. Just… talk to me when you are ready?” Regina answered, still a little gruffly, but the offer sounded genuine. Emma nodded gratefully, thanking her, then looked down as an attention-seeking dog squeezed himself between them. Emma grinned through the tears threatening to spill from her eyes as her emotions still tumbled inside of her. Gratefully, she slid her hands from Regina’s and crouched down to bury her head into Pongo’s fur as she suddenly became aware of opening up—even if it had been gibberish—to an almost complete stranger. She felt vulnerable—light, but very, very, vulnerable.

Regina was staring down at her but let her have her moment to collect herself. Once Emma stood again, scoffing the floor a little as she stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, Regina smiled at her, and Emma realized she had missed seeing that expression on the other woman. The guarded and pained look she had inspired in the brunette all day had been torture. She knew she hadn’t taken all of that away—Regina still didn’t look at her with the openness she remembered from last night—but it was better. They could be in the same space now, and Emma felt a little steadier knowing that she had been forgiven at least intellectually. Now she was just going to have to work at it. She would never be able to lay it all out like Regina had done, so she would just have to show the beautiful brunette her intentions.

“So… how was the funeral?” She asked awkwardly, and Regina sighed, brought back to current affairs. With their moment ended, Regina took to the kitchen, Emma and Pongo trailing behind. 

“Short.” Regina answered. “The town’s people had already dug the grave. Everyone said their goodbyes and that was it.”

Regina shrugged, handing Emma a bottle of water from the fridge. Death was such a major part of life that no one dwelled on it for extended periods of time. Tomorrow it could be them—and for Emma, yesterday it had almost been her. She understood Regina’s indifference, although she had seen how affected Regina had been by Archie’s death back in the scrapyard. Regina was at least partly faking her demeanour, but Emma allowed her to. Everyone dealt with loss and guilt differently. She accepted the water gratefully, opened the cap and took a sip.

“Well, at least he’s here now, and not out there. That’s something.” She answered afterwards, and Regina nodded.

“Indeed. Now, I told the town’s folk I needed to wash up and change, but after that I promised I would join them for a toast in Doctor Hopper’s honour at the diner. We could have an early dinner as well, if you would like to join us? I’m sure Henry would like that?” Regina asked, extending the olive branch again before taking a long drink of her own beverage. Emma nodded, and with it, she agreed to another night in Storybrooke—another night with Regina. They both realized it.

“I’d like that. Just let me wash up as well, and I’ll be good to go.” She agreed, and Regina nodded. The brunette emptied her bottle and placed it on the counter, ready to be reused later for whatever purpose. Pongo looked up at Regina expectantly in the hope the counter would produce a snack for him. Regina pointedly ignored his wishes, although her hand did eventually slide down to scratch the animal under the jaw. Emma liked how easily the animal had been adopted by the Mills family. They had simply taken him home and it hadn’t been discussed further. A part of her wished it was so easy with her.

“Good… I’ll go change. Perhaps you would like to give Henry his present?” Regina answered, and Emma grinned. She’d almost forgotten about the comic book still in her backpack—which was still outside, she remembered now.

“Yeah, good idea. Let me know when you’re done?” She asked, and Regina nodded, leaving the kitchen with Pongo on her heels, and Emma wished that things were less tense between them. This was better—much better—but it wasn’t like that first night, or the morning after. Sighing, she went to retrieve her battered backpack and fished the comic out of it, dragging the pack up the stairs with her after patting Pongo on the head. He whined again as all his humans disappeared up the steps he was obviously trained not to go up as well. She felt sorry for him a moment but well, he was a dog. Shit happened. 

Emma left her gear in the guest room, along with her shotgun. Exiting, she heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and wished that she was allowed to join the brunette, even if all she was probably doing was rub herself clean with dirty water and a wash cloth. Instead, she crossed the hallway and knocked on Henry’s bedroom door. When the call to enter came, she carefully opened the door, trying to remember that she was a hero to this little boy and he’d already seen her unhinged once; he didn’t need more of that.

“Hey kid.” She greeted, and he sat up from his bed in surprise, obviously having expected his mom. His room was about the same size as her guest room and was filled to the brim with toys and books. She would have loved to grow up in a room like this—looking around, she could almost forget about the monsters out there that would have you for lunch if you didn’t pay attention.

“Hey Emma, is everything okay?” He asked, and she nodded, trying not to show she was touched by his concern. Regina had raised him well.

“Just fine, kid. I had to talk to your mom about something, that’s all. Hey—I brought you a present. Your mom said you might like it.” She covered quickly, hoping to distract the youth—it worked. As she pulled the dirty issue of the comic from behind her back, he leaped up to accept it, excited eyes scanning the cover before leafing through it. Emma knew from experience that very few copies of Grognak The Barbarian were completely intact and missing pages were standard, so when she saw Henry’s entire face light up, she knew that this copy contained at least one page he had previously been without.

“The Ants of Agony…” He muttered happily, rushing over to his bookcase and pulling out his own copy of the book in question. As Emma watched, he took the books to his bed, opened his copy which constituted mostly of loose pages and transferred some of them to his new copy, obviously deeming hers superior. With a happy grin, he looked up at her. “Now I’m only missing pages 5-6 and 13-14! Thank you! This is awesome!”

“Very welcome, kid. I used to love Grognak growing up.” She told him, and after he had carefully put the books away—savouring the experience of reading until his bedtime, no doubt—he once more enveloped her waist for a long hug. She accepted it, holding him close for long moments and she found herself hoping that she would make it back to Storybrooke one day—that she would make it back to Regina and this little boy who was so trusting, and almost entirely unaffected by the horrors of his daily life although he was completely aware of them. As Henry pulled back, she ruffled his hair, smiling down at him.

“We’ll be eating at the diner tonight, did your mom tell you? You’ll get me something good to eat, right?” She asked, and he beamed up at her.

“Oh yeah, just let me order. I’ve got this.” He told her wisely, and she nodded. 

“Deal, kid. Now go back to reading. Your mom should be done soon and we’ll head out when I clean up and change, okay?” She told him, and he confirmed, hopping back to the bed and climbing on as she closed the door with a smile. Once she did, she was surprised to hear Regina’s voice drift over to her. She turned on the spot, heart pounding in her throat from surprise, and found the other woman smirking in the door opening to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

“You’re good with him.” She commented, and Emma was momentarily too stunned to talk as she ran her eyes over Regina’s form—no longer dirty, and no longer dressed for Wasteland survival. Regina wore a light dress, modest as all pre-ware casual wear was, but just seeing her in a dress at all was such wish-fulfilment that Emma lost her higher brain functions completely.

“Huh?” She asked dumbly, aware Regina had spoken, but completely unable to interpret her words.

“I said: you are good with him, with Henry. He likes you.” Regina repeated, obviously enjoying the reaction she was coaxing out of Emma simply by existing and wearing that dress. Emma could see she had done her hair as well—gone was the messy road-look; it was perfectly styled now and ‘gorgeous’ was not a strong enough term.

“He’s a very easy kid to get along with.” Emma vowed. “Besides I came bearing gifts. Comics: the fastest way to a kid’s heart.”

“Well, you’re good with those as well; hearts, I mean…” Regina challenged, and Emma swallowed, knowing she had to step up to the plate. She couldn’t drop the ball again.

“Not too bad yourself, Madam Mayor… although it’s not just my _heart_ that’s affected by that get-up. Please tell me that you wore that just for me.” She sassed, stepping closer until she had Regina pressed against the door to the bathroom—something Regina easily allowed, hooking her fingers into the straps of the bulletproof vest eternally wrapped around Emma’s chest and brushing back her leather jacket a little as she did so.

“I did.” Regina answered coyly, and Emma bent down to trail the exposed skin of Regina’s chest with her lips. She slid them upwards until she could whisper into Regina’s ear as her hands settled on the brunette’s hips.

“I could get used to you wearing things just for me. First the night gown, now this…?” She mused, forcing herself to acknowledge she’d thought of them beyond Emma’s immanent departure—forced herself to acknowledge she wanted there to be a ‘them’.

“If you come back to me, Savior, I’ll gladly dress up for you any way you want me to…” Regina answered her hotly, but the emotionally charged sentence still rang true enough to Emma to realize that the question hidden in it was sincere. She bought herself a moment by suckling on the pulse-point in Regina’s neck and had the other woman shivering.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Was the closest she got to a declaration of intent, and Regina accepted it, taking a firm hold on the sides of her face and yanking her up so she could kiss her roughly, a kiss meant to show desire and convey need. It was a kiss that had Emma wish she wasn’t still covered in blood and smelling like Wasteland and dead Yao Guai so she could take the brunette to the bedroom right now. Unfortunately, they had a dinner date, and she most certainly _did_ still need to clean up. Regrettably—but strengthened by the fact they were at the point of close physical contact and flirtation again—she withdrew a little, moving one hand to the wood of the door and the other to Regina’s abdomen, holding her trapped a little longer. She met Regina’s darkened eyes and bit her lip wantonly.

“I’m going to get ready, have that dinner with you, and when we get back and the kid is in bed, I’m going to peel you out of this dress, lay you down, spread you open for me, and fuck you with my tongue until I finally get that scream out of you.” She promised, and Regina’s pupils dilated as her lips parted in need. A sexy smirk came over her lips and Regina leaned forward as much as Emma allowed, controlling her with her hand on her stomach. Pulling herself back a little, she only allowed Regina the faintest of brushes over her lips, but Regina wasn’t going for a kiss.

“I can’t wait to scream for you…” She whispered darkly against her lips, and Emma felt her legs go weak at the words, imagining the sound. The feeling only got worse as Regina continued. “…and when you’re done, when you’ve had your fill… you are mine, Miss Swan. I still need to repay you, and I promise that I will pay you two times over… more, maybe, if you think you can handle it.”

“Oh, I can handle it, princess. I can handle anything you throw at me.” Emma promised, and Regina pecked at her lips.

“Why don’t you give me a little taste?” She suggested, managing to push forward a little more and take a hold on Emma’s bottom lip, sinking teeth into it and pulling. Emma groaned and leaned in, forcing Regina back until her head hit the door and her hands wrapped around Emma’s shoulders, sliding into her hair and pulling her closer as Emma forced her tongue between willing lips and past parting teeth. Tongues met hungrily as Emma’s hand slid up, cupping Regina’s breast through the fabric of her dress and bra and squeezing roughly. Regina moaned deeply into her mouth as she fisted her hair and Emma drowned, pressing her body flat against Regina’s, a leg between hers, and felt Regina bear down on them just enough to ignite Emma fully.

She knew they were short on time, that she was dirty, that Regina’s son was only a few feet away, and yet she couldn’t stop. More than horny, she was dying to _connect_ , and Regina seemed willing enough to allow her to. With a gasp, Emma pulled back and met dark eyes. She raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Regina nodded almost imperceptibly, licking kiss-bruised lips. Emma grinned and steadied herself, sliding her hand down to Regina’s hip and then down her leg, pulling it up as Regina took a strong hold of her neck. With ease, Emma pulled Regina into her arms, lifting her up and carrying her the few feet into the bedroom where they could have a little privacy. Regina held her tight, buried her head in Emma’s neck and kissed the skin she found there as Emma closed the door behind her with her ass before putting Regina down.

She locked the door, then settled her eyes on the woman who was oozing sexual tension. Regina looked like a woman dying to be fucked, and Emma wanted to give her that pleasure more than anything. With urgency, she pressed Regina back against the wall just next to the door, and Regina cupped her jaw and neck with one hand each, holding her close as her body rocked into Emma’s. They kissed again, deeply, as Emma’s hands slid down over flimsy material and then back up over a smooth thigh, not wasting time with foreplay. They’d had days of foreplay and enough raw need to go straight to the part that mattered right now. 

Emma smirked when she found Regina’s sex wet and welcoming. She loved having this effect on Regina; she hadn’t expected her to be this ready… but Regina was. She coated two fingers, running them between Regina’s lips as Regina gaped, breaking the kiss and allowing her head to fall forward into Emma’s neck again as Emma found her sensitive clit. She used her other arm to hold Regina close by the waist—something very much needed as she begun to rub Regina’s sensitive skin in tight circles and the other woman put more of her weight on Emma’s frame. Regina’s hips jumped in time with Emma’s quick and purposeful rhythm—held in check only by Emma’s arm around her—and Emma added to her stimulation the only way she could with Regina’s body wrapped around her like this: she talked.

“I love how wet you are, Madam Mayor… just a few minutes with me and you’re happy to let me fuck you… _again_. You are such a pillow princess. I don’t mind, though. I don’t mind at all. You know why? Not because you'll be paying me back, but because I love seeing you come. One time and I’m already addicted. I can’t wait to feel you come against me, Regina… hear you try to stifle those screams again… you turn me on so much; you’re too beautiful, too sexy. Every time you look at me, I can feel myself getting wet and I think about your fingers inside of me, your tongue sliding through the lips of my pussy, your lips around my clit… do you think about that, Regina? Do you think about how I will taste on your tongue? How I will feel coming around your fingers—how I will look? Because every time I look at you, I think about that; about how you taste, how you feel, how you look...” Emma took regular breaks to let her words land, and heard Regina moan or reply softly, and Emma knew that this was working, that this would be enough to make Regina come. 

Not five minutes after entering the bedroom, Regina tensed in her arms, trying to jerk her hips away from the touches that were overloading her system, but Emma would have none of it. She pressed forward, her leg against the back of her hand, and continued to rub Regina’s sensitive clit until Regina sank her teeth into the skin of her shoulder, just beyond the straps of Emma’s body armour and tank top. Emma groaned deeply, putting more force behind her motions as need overtook her.

“Emma… please… please…” Regina begged her to continue, to make her come, into the skin of her neck, and Emma trembling at the shot of arousal that shot through her at that. She didn’t slow, forcing Regina to take the last bit of stimulation she needed to come, and revelled in the feeling of shaking hips, straining muscles, and a sharp gasp that turned into a badly silenced moan as Regina came against her hand. It wasn’t earth shattering, but it was satisfying, and as Regina collapsed into her arms, Emma took her weight, slowing her hand and pressing kisses onto tussled hair. 

“You’re gorgeous…” She whispered, and Regina groaned softly, lifting her head and blushing slightly, kissing Emma softly as Emma smoothed out her dress again, and helped her find her footing. 

“…and you are so very good at this.” Regina complimented, and Emma smirked happily.

“Just you wait until I have you all to myself tonight.” She swore, and like before in the hallway, Regina smirked and kissed her lightly.

“I can’t wait, dear.” She murmured, and Emma claimed her mouth one more time before regrettably stepping away, dipping her head down cockily. 

“I should uhh… get cleaned up and all.” She told Regina, who was smoothing out her hair and dress. The brunette nodded, capturing her eyes darkly—with promise. Emma smiled a last goofy grin and unlocked the door, letting herself out, and heading off to the guest room for a change of clothes and something to wash herself with. She just wished her legs cooperated a little better—she was too aroused to walk with the confidence she would have liked to project after making the gorgeous Mayor come for her _again_.


	8. Chapter 8

Emma increased the speed of her strides a moment so she could arrive at the door to the diner first and hold it open for Henry and Regina—both of whom thanked her as they walked in—and then let Pongo pass. Letting the door fall shut again, Emma glanced about her, nodding at strangers and familiar faces alike. Gold was there with a tearful girl who was probably Emma’s age, and Emma wondered if that was the illusive ‘Belle’ Regina had spoken about. She also spotted Ruby after a moment, keeping herself firmly away from the corner where Gold and Belle resided, although her attention was now mostly on Regina and Emma herself. Emma stilled a sigh and followed the brunette to a booth, sliding in across from Henry while Regina remained standing, waiting until Henry had slid in before looking around. 

As Pongo laid down at their feet under the table, settling himself happily over Emma’s combat boots, Henry grabbed the single menu on the table as he rambled merrily about his favourite dishes, the diner, and Storybrooke in general. Emma indulged him with hums and smiles, but her attention was on Regina, who was obviously steeling herself now the dozen or so people in the diner seemed to remember the public fallout between her and Ruby a few days ago. She caught glances and hushed conversation, but it was an odd atmosphere, because the woman they were passing judgement on was also their Mayor, and she _had_ just brought back much needed supplies. Emma sunk a little further into her seat and plucked at a dirt stain on her newly donned jeans, not exactly comfortable being here. Social interaction had never been her strongest suite, and she missed a lot of information about the players in this game. 

She realised she hadn’t asked Regina more about the funeral in the few short minutes before their departure. Emma had simply washed up—eternally grateful to get the blood off of her legs and fighting memories while she did—had donned a new pair of jeans, another top, and her leather jacket, and had met Regina and Henry downstairs. A short discussion about body armour and weapons later and they had left the house, Pongo on their heels—there had simply not been time.

Emma assumed Ruby had attended the funeral as well, but most likely the presence of a dead guy had kept the rumour mill down to a minimum, and Emma doubted it had come to blows or anything. Regina would have told her about _that_ , no matter the time limits. In fact, as she craned her neck to seek out Ruby, she found the girl locking eyes with Regina and _smiling_ a little. Emma had to bite the inside of her lip as a shot of jealousy seared through her. She wasn’t entitled to jealousy, Emma knew, but it didn’t lessen the feeling.

“I’ll be right back.” Regina told her after purposefully straightening her dress, and Henry and Emma both nodded, Henry engrossed in the menu while Emma tracked Regina with her eyes as she headed to the bar—not Ruby—and called Granny over. Ruby watched the exchange as the elderly woman reluctantly did as told, forcefully wiping her hands on a dishrag. Regina spoke a few words, and the elder woman nodded grimly, setting out enough shot glasses on a tray for everyone and filling them with an amber liquid. Wordlessly, Granny went around the diner, handing everyone a glass, and giving one to Henry as well although that one was filled with a clear liquid that was most likely just water. 

With every handed out glass, the noise in the room died down a little more and before long, everyone stood or sat quietly at their respective tables. Regina took the second to last glass off of the tray and Granny set the tray away before reaching for her own. All eyes fell on Regina, who bore their weight with a poise that had Emma bite back a smile. It seemed that Regina’s social standing was still intact. Regina didn’t clear her throat before she raised her glass and started speaking. She looked calm and collected; something told Emma that part of that calm was faked—she’d gotten very decent at reading Regina, she thought—but she doubted the others noticed.

“We’ve lost a valuable member of our community with Archie Hopper’s death. No one will be able to take his place. He was a good man; a smart man. He was a good friend to all of us, and he was always there to listen to us when we were struggling. He was the voice of reason in an otherwise amoral world, and his opinion will be missed. May we always listen to the voice he has instilled in all of us. To Archie!” Regina speeched firmly but with a perfect level of emotional involvement, and everyone—Emma included—repeated the cheer. 

She slammed her spirits down in one go, watching Henry do the same with his water, and she bit back a smirk at the played winch on his face as the liquid slid down his throat. He slammed the glass down along with everyone else, and Regina nodded as a sign for everyone to carry on. Within a few minutes the conversations had resumed and Regina spoke to Granny a moment before walking back to their booth. It gave Emma a few moments to feel out the mood in the diner, and while there was still some tension, Regina’s firm action had silenced most of the critical voices. That alone put Emma’s mind to rest a little.

“Good speech.” Emma complimented, and Regina smiled, shrugging. She sat down delicately, rubbing Henry’s hair a second before setting her eyes firmly on Emma’s. The world fell away a little, and Emma felt herself smiling lightly, despite herself. There was just something about the older woman that settled her nerves, which were otherwise eternally on high alert. 

“Thank you. He will be missed.” Regina answered, and the two shared a smile before Regina turned to Henry again. “Are you alright, sweetheart? It’s been a long day for you.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry Archie is dead, but you are back so… I think it’s okay?” Henry told her, and Regina pulled him close to her as Emma watched, smiling as Henry settled into her easily, eyes closed. 

“Very much okay.” Regina agreed softly and kissed the top of his head as Emma continued to watch with a dull ache in her chest. It must be so nice to have someone in your life who you know will always make you feel better—someone whose sheer presence was enough to bring a smile to your face. Emma felt her heart leap into her throat when Regina suddenly caught her eyes again. Good God, she really had it bad. Gruffly, she decided she needed a distraction from her feelings and food always did wonders.

“So, kid, how about that food you promised me?” She asked quickly, and Henry opened his eyes, straightening out and grinning with excitement. 

“Of course. I can get you anything off of the menu, right? No questions asked?” He asked her conspiratorially, and Emma narrowed her eyes. Was he messing with her? If it was on the menu, it was eatable, right? She relaxed a little when she caught Regina’s badly veiled smirk and nodded slowly.

“Yeah, sure. Get me anything. Be gentle with my wallet, though; I need my caps for more than munchies.” She commented dryly, referring to the Nuka-Cola bottle caps used as currency in the Wasteland. Henry snorted and rolled his eyes as Regina smirked fully, leaning forward a little in a way that was positively flirtatious. 

“That reminds me, Miss Swan, I sold the Yao Guai meat to Granny just now—thirty caps—so I’m assuming dinner is on you?” Regina told her sweetly, and Emma grinned, shaking her head in bemused annoyance. 

“Fine, sure, I’m not cheap. I’ll buy a girl a proper meal. Henry, order for your mom as well, will you? And seeing as I suddenly have thirty caps to spend, make it good.” She joked good-naturedly, loving the twinkle in Regina’s eyes. Henry nodded enthusiastically and dug into the menu again while Emma slid out of the booth.

“I’ll be right back. Bathroom?” She asked, and Regina pointed to the back. Emma thanked her easily and left mother and son to discuss dinner options, hearing Regina offer suggestions—mostly about her own meal—and grinning as Henry shot them all down. It seemed Regina was not getting away with a light meal today. Pongo watched her go with a small whine as Regina held him back from following her down the hallway.

The bathroom was small and badly lit—as all Wasteland bathrooms seemed to be—but the door locked, so there was that. She relieved herself, hovering over the seatless bowl and flushed, hoisting her pants back up and heading out to wash her hands in the small space between the stall and the door to the hallway. Jumping in shock, she cursed avidly as her eyes landed upon the frame of a lanky brunette, who had draped herself casually against the doorframe of the door that lead out into the hallway.

“Fuck, Ruby. Could you not?!” Emma added, trying to calm her racing heart and fight-or-flight instincts. These fucking sheltered people who had no fucking clue how to deal with people who survived outside of fucking fences and in an environment where these types of surprised tended to end in bloodshed. It was a very good thing Regina had made her leave her shotgun at the mansion, although she felt bare without her vest. “What do you want, anyway?”

“I wanted to talk to you.” Ruby said, and brought her hands up in the universally understood sign for ‘I mean you no harm’. Emma closed the door to the stall and pressed back against it, creating as much space between the two of them as possible while trying to ignore Ruby had just listened to her pee. “We haven’t exactly met, after all.”

“Okay, talk.” Emma answered guardedly, wondering where this was going. Instinctively, she shifted her weight onto her left leg so she would be able to bring up her right foot quickly and reach for her knife just in case Ruby carried any weapons Emma couldn’t spot right now. Something told her the girl was stronger than she looked.

“I-uh… look, I know what happened between you and Regina. Maybe it happened more than once, and, you know, that’s fine. She’s a grown woman and we were never anything… not together I mean.” Ruby fumbled, and Emma relaxed a little. This did not seem like a woman ready to butcher her for sleeping with someone she thought she could stake a claim to. “Regina is her own person, and I know that. I just want to know if you like her-- _like_ like her.” 

Ruby was fidgeting now, eyes dropping to the floor as she spoke, but coming back up at the question. Emma frowned.

“I don’t really see how that is any of your business, but yeah, I like her.” Emma admitted, still jumpy, and still clueless as to where this was going. After a pause, she added: “ _Like_ like her.”

Ruby looked up at her, searching her face, and then she smiled softly—dejectedly. Emma felt that damn guilt returning.

“Good.” Ruby said. “She deserves to be happy.”

“I’m not staying.” Emma interjected. “I need to find my parents. I’m leaving tomorrow so…” She trailed off. She didn’t want to finish that sentence, didn’t want to give Ruby hope for more, for some renewed chance with Regina. On the other hand, she couldn’t stake a claim to Regina any more than Ruby could—Emma was leaving, a stranger passing through town. The fact that she hoped she would return soon meant nothing.

“It doesn’t matter.” Ruby said softly, scoffing at the floor. “She’s never looked at me like she looks at you. I don’t stand a chance with her—I was stupid for thinking I did.”

“I’m… not sure what to say to that…” Emma confessed uncomfortably, wishing she was anywhere but here. She felt for Ruby, and this was not something she was good at, something she could do—talking to this complete stranger about the woman Emma didn’t even want to admit liking beyond the sexual? Yeah, no. She’d rather take her chances with another Super Mutant. In close quarters. Without her gun.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll let you get back to her just… try not to hurt her?” Ruby asked, eyes soulful and watery as she pushed herself away from the doorpost and opened the door with a sigh. With one last glance in Emma’s direction, Ruby disappeared before Emma got a chance to say anything, leaving behind the air of a broken heart and once more driving home that Emma was a shitty person for not speaking up to Regina about her feelings. 

_Was_ she going to hurt Regina, Emma wondered? She wanted to say she wasn’t, but she was going to, regardless. She was leaving and she was most likely going to get killed somewhere in the Wasteland, and at best, Regina would think her dead. Worst case scenario, she would think that Emma had never meant to come back—that it had just been sex. Swallowing heavily, Emma felt the weight of the consequences of her actions with the brunette weigh down on her like the weight of the world. There was no fixing this, she knew. She stared at the door Ruby had disappeared through and sighed deeply. She wished she could be angry at Ruby for driving home what position she had put Regina in, but she couldn’t—because Ruby was right. So now what?

As always, Emma buried her emotions, silenced her thoughts, and pretended nothing was wrong. It had been her way to deal with everything in her life, so why not this? She washed her hands, wiped them on her pants as she headed back to the booth, and sat herself down with a faked grin. 

“So, what’s it going to be?” She asked, and Henry leaned back smugly.

“You’ll see, Granny just took our order.” Henry told her, and Emma arched a brow. Regina was watching her, she saw, observing her, but Emma ignored her for the moment. She had a feeling Regina would be able to see right through her thin walls, and she couldn’t handle that right now. 

“Well, okay then. I’m trusting you here, kid.” She warned, and Henry giggled adorably. Regina smirked as well, and soon the conversation kicked up between mother and son, letting Emma off the hook. She settled. Henry asked after their adventures out in the Wasteland, and Regina told him pretty much their entire adventure, save for the gory and romantic details, and before long, Emma was dragged into the conversation as well—especially whenever Regina downplayed her own role in affairs. They had drawn a crowd, and many of the diner customers had fallen silent, listening to Regina talk animatedly, gasping at the Super Mutant encounter, falling silent at the part where they had found Archie, laughing at Regina gruffly recounting Emma’s lack of skill with the cart—something Emma fought tooth and nail—and listening excitedly as she got to the second night.

Henry was especially excited by the Yao Guai encounter, and asked after every little detail. Emma, wisely, let Regina handle that one, not wanting to upset the kid and trusting Regina knew what her son could and could not handle in terms of details. She was still happy to note that she told him everything that had happened—including the fact that what she had done had been a stupid thing to do—and left out only the extent of Emma’s injuries. In fact, the way Regina told the story, Emma was pretty much the hero for trying to fight off the mutated creature with just a knife. 

“No, no, no, Henry! Don’t listen to your mother!” Emma interjected spiritedly, a laugh to her voice. “I was lying there, on the ground, without my knife, and I was thinking ‘okay, this is pretty much the end’, and then I open my eyes and your mother is standing over me with my sword in her hands, and this huge Yao Guai is growling and clawing at his snout because she’d cut it up. I’m telling you, without your mom, I wouldn’t be sitting here.” 

“You’re a hero, mom!” Henry gushed, and Emma watched happily as Regina blushed, trying to downplay her role again, but even some of the towners joined in with the praise, and there was no denying that Regina had saved Emma’s life. Leaning back happily, Emma watched the beautiful woman nod in thanks, and pat Henry on his knee happily. 

Just when Emma thought the Mayor had survived the social strain of her public break-up, it was Ruby who shouldered her way through the crowd with two trays, balancing full plates and drinks. The town’s people fell silent, and Regina swallowed heavily, straightening out. Henry’s brow furrowed, blissfully unaware of the recent happenings between his mom and his babysitter, but confused now everyone suddenly acted oddly. Emma licked her lips nervously, forcing herself to look at Ruby and not away.

“Your order, Madam Mayor.” Ruby said softly, setting out the plates as well as three glasses and bottles of Nuka Cola. No one said anything for a long moment, then Ruby smiled sincerely. “It’s good to have you home, Regina. Enjoy your meal.”

The tension broke immediately, and Emma realized she admired the young brunette. She was obviously hurting, obviously angry, but she chose the high road and wished Regina well. As Ruby turned and left for the kitchen, Regina caught Emma’s eyes a moment and Emma nodded, watching as Regina stood and followed her. The towner’s talked, but the mood no longer felt heavy. It seemed they were as happy that Ruby and Regina had patched things up—at least moderately so—as Emma was, and Emma suddenly wondered how secret their affair had actually been. In a town this size, she doubted Regina had estimated correctly how few people knew, and _especially_ in a town this size, any lingering disagreements like this had the potential to tear the town apart. No wonder the town’s people were happy to have their Mayor and their favourite waitress working things out; here in the Wasteland, your chances of survival dropped considerably when you stopped trusting your companions.

“Emma?” Henry asked, shaking her out of her reverie. Emma hummed in question, dragging her eyes to him. He was looking a little lost, not even remotely interested in the awesome looking food on their plates—he had ordered the same for all, it seemed—and she couldn’t help but feel for him. 

“What’s up, Henry?” She asked, leaning forward a little in the privacy the towners were once again giving them now they had returned to their own conversations.

“I don’t know…” He confessed, taking her question as an actual question, directed his way. She bit back a snicker. 

“It seems your mom and Ruby had a little bit of a fight before she left and they’re just trying to find out how to be friends again now.” Emma explained, leaving out any talk of love triangles and broken hearts. “She’ll be back soon, okay? Why don’t you tell me what I’m about to put into my mouth?” 

He looked at her a little dubious, eyes sliding to the door to the kitchen area, but then he sighed and relaxed, implicitly trusting her to tell the truth. Good God, that boy really was raised well. He sighed and smiled, shuffling around a little before poking at his food.

“Okay, I guess… It’s the diner special: a Molerat burger. Mom said you still wanted to try that and since you are leaving tomorrow… well.. I thought you would like it. It comes with French fries and it’s really good. I promise! It’s also totally fresh; Ruby shot it herself this morning before you and mom got back. It just wandered up to Storybrooke!” Henry told her, becoming more and more excited by the word. Emma grinned.

“Well, it looks awesome. Thanks, Henry. I can’t wait to taste it!” She enthused, and she meant it. It smelled great! A thick slab of slightly greyish meat between two oversized mushroom caps, molten cheese, and some sauce Emma couldn’t place. She poked at the orang-y substance a little. “What’s that?”

“Punga fruit chutney.” Henry explained, and Emma raised an eyebrow. “It’s a fruit that Granny has imported from Point Lookout, down south. She cooks it and it’s really sweet. It’s the best part of the burger. Trust me.”

“Okay, kid. Whatever you say…” Emma answered dubiously. Somehow fruit on her meat did not sound like a good idea, but she took up the burger regardless, needing two hands to hold it. Henry watched her as he bit his lip in anticipation. Sinking her teeth through all layers, Emma closed her eyes as the odd combination of flavours hit her pallet. It took a moment for everything to come together, but then she moaned blissfully, chewing slowly as she opened her eyes again, nodding vigorously.

“Oh yeah… that is good.” She said truthfully around her bite, and Henry grinned up at her happily.

“Told you.” He answered her smugly, and she nodded. 

“You definitely did. Thanks, kid. Good choice. Now eat your burger, your mom’ll be back soon.” She promised, and he nodded, picking up his knife and fork to cut the burger into quarters before taking up one of the parts and biting into it happily as well. Emma rolled her eyes at his shiny table manners, but couldn’t fault them. After all, his were a lot better than hers.

Regina returned another bite and two fries with scraped off Punga fruit chutney later, sliding into the booth heavily, although she looked far more relaxed than before.

“Good talk?” Emma inquired softly, and Regina nodded. Good. They wordlessly buried the subject until they had some privacy, and Regina dodged a few questions from her son about her falling out with Ruby. All she was willing to commit to was that they’d had a talk and that everything was fine now. Emma busied herself with feeding bits of Molerat meat and fries to Pongo, who wolfed the treats down happily.

By the time they left the diner an hour later, Emma was stuffed to the gills, Henry was his old self again, and Regina seemed far more relaxed. The two adults watched Henry and Pongo play on the way home, running after each other and Henry throwing a stick around that Pongo easily fetched. Regina smiled, sliding her arm into Emma’s, who automatically pulled the arms closer into her body. Seeing as it had been Regina’s decision to engage her in the romantic gesture, she figured Regina was alright with other people knowing… well… whatever it was between them. Besides, it felt good to have the beautiful woman on her arm, Emma wasn’t going to lie about that.

“Ruby came to talk to me in the bathroom.” Emma confessed softly, watching Henry toss the stick again. Regina hummed.

“She told me. She said that you looked like you were about to stab her.” She answered with a grin. Emma huffed at that, and met Regina’s eyes, finding a glint of amusement in them.

“I was _not_.” Emma replied, and Regina’s smile widened. Beating Regina to a teasing remark, she quickly continued. “She’s great though, she really cares for you.”

“I know. I strongly dislike hurting her… but we had a good conversation, and she understands the situation. She allowed me to make amends for my behaviour and confessed she always knew what we were to each other. She had simply not stopped herself from hoping for more.” Regina answered softly, and leaned a little more solidly into Emma, who squeezed the arm between hers and her torso.

“Well, with someone as beautiful, and sexy, and all-round intriguing as you, I can imagine why.” Emma confessed, and Regina dipped her head before glancing up at her.

“Careful, Savior. A woman might start expecting things with such sweet talk.” Regina warned, and Emma didn’t miss the challenging note in the words. She felt her heart pick up speed and her mouth go dry, but she knew she still had a lot to prove—and that Regina deserved it, despite Emma’s emotional immaturity.

“I’d like to come back here—to you—once I find my parents.” She blurted out, looking down, looking at Henry, looking at the houses beyond—looking anywhere but Regina—afterwards. Regina would have none of it, of course. She pulled them to a stop simply by stopping herself and holding Emma’s arm, and Emma—reluctantly—allowed herself to be halted. Regina remained silent until Emma’s curiosity forced her to meet dark eyes, filled with emotion, and Emma realized for the first time that she wasn’t the only one struggling here. 

“Emma, I would truly like you to return here once you have located your parents; Storybrooke has plenty of space for three more. I…” Regina started, and for the first time in the history of their time together, Regina faltered. Emma felt her protective instincts kick in immediately, and allowed her hands to settle on slim hips, running her thumbs over light fabric as she tried to anchor the older woman, who was just a little shorter than her.

“It’s Daniel, isn’t it?” She asked, recognising the fear in Regina’s eyes for what it was. “You’re scared I won’t make it back.”

“Yes.” Regina confessed painfully. Never the less, her voice was filled with sassy bemusement once she spoke again. “I’ve seen you out there in the Wasteland, Savior, and frankly, I am shocked you have even made it this far.”

Emma smirked at that, not offended in the least, and pulled Regina a little closer, relaxing as Regina settled her hands lightly on her upper arms and leaned into her a little. They were standing in the centre of the town, in the shadow of the shattered clock tower, and Emma should feel uncomfortable with this level of exposure—both physically and emotionally. She wasn’t, though. She checked on Henry’s well-being a moment, then smiled down at Regina, who mirrored her. When Emma leaned down, Regina easily met her, and sighed into a soft, connecting, kiss.

There really wasn’t much Emma could say to settle Regina’s worried mind: she _was_ leaving, and the Capital Wasteland _could_ easily kill her, but there was also no denying that Emma would do anything in her power to come back—that’s what she told herself, anyway.

Sighing, Emma allowed herself to forget about her surroundings for just a moment, to forget about the future. She brought a hand up to cup Regina’s cheek as she allowed her emotions to come to the surface and exchange a kiss that had very little to do with lust, and even less with the fear of death that had inspired a kiss before. She tried to convey… Emma wasn’t sure what she was trying to convey, but it was soft, and warm, and gentle, and it caused her to shiver as she pulled Regina closer by the waist. Regina’s arms settled easily around her shoulders and for a few moments, Emma forgot all about her parents, all about the dangers that awaited her. She was just here, now, with Regina.

When they broke apart, Emma grinned, leaning her forehead against Regina’s a quiet moment and blinking her eyes open to watch Regina smile. Once they pulled back, Emma automatically became aware of her surroundings again, and jumped when she found Henry and Pongo maybe five feet off. Henry was grinning like an idiot, looking up at them as if he had just seen Christmas roll around again, and Pongo sat excitably next to him, tail wagging and tongue lolling. He barked happily when Emma regarded him, and she grinned. Regina, who had caught Emma looking, turned her head, spotted Henry watching and blushed ferociously, burying her face into Emma’s chest as she held on to the sides of her leather jacket in an effort to hide. 

“What are you staring at, kid.” Emma covered for his mother, wrapping her arms protectively around her, and Henry’s grin widened.

“Nothing.” He told her, and she smirked, nodding.

“Exactly.” She commented easily, and Henry bit his lip, glancing excitedly at his mom, who had extracted herself again, sliding a hand across Emma’s waist as Emma did the same so they could walk again, side by side. The blonde pressed a kiss to the side of the brunette’s head gently. “Come on, let’s get inside before it gets dark.”

As Emma valiantly fumbled her way through making tea, Regina tugged Henry in. He had his allotted hour reading time, although it took forever for Regina to return before that hour even started; it would be a late night for the ten year old. Emma wondered if he would settle in with the copy of Grognak she had given him, and hoped that was the case. She vowed to herself to look for more comics and other presents for the boy while she was out. She would love to find those missing pages for him. With two mugs of tea, Emma eventually returned to the living room, waiting for Regina to return as well, and absentmindedly scratched Pongo behind the ear.

“Who knew, huh, boy?” She asked the Dalmatian, who happily turned his head to look at her. “Maybe there’s a place for me here as well. I’m jealous of you though. At least you don’t have to go anywhere. You just get to enjoy all of this.”

Pongo whined and licked her wrist, and Emma smiled, leaning back. She really was going to miss travelling with that dog. Her thoughts were disturbed by Regina, who descended the stairs quietly, smiling at Emma as she came into view.

“He wants to know if it’s too early to start calling you ‘ma’.” She asked, and Emma—who had just taken a careful first sip of her scalding tea—nearly choked to death. Coughing, she sat up, holding her mug level, as she tried to expel the fluids from her lungs.

“Fuck, yes!” She finally croaked out, and Regina laughed merrily, shaking her head and taking her mug from her to preserve her rug.

“That’s what I told him as well, although I gave him permission to use the term behind your back.” Regina answered, and Emma wished she could tell if Regina was just being sarcastic or not. Squinting, she reclaimed her mug and shook her head. Regina settled easily on the couch with her, taking up her own mug and leaning back into Emma’s body as Emma slipped an arm around her. Truthfully, it felt like they had sat like this for months—years—as if they were intimately familiar with the ways of the other and could coexist easily in a shared space. For Emma, who had never experienced that anywhere or with anyone—except perhaps Amata, the girl from Vault 101—it felt like magic.

“I’ve never had this, you know?” She said softly, and Regina reached out to lay a hand on her leg, rubbing lightly. “In the vault, I was the child of traitors—a burden. I got passed around and by the time I was Henry’s age, I pretty much took care of myself. When I escaped, well, you know how people out here are. It’s a tough world and caring for someone… wanting to come back to someone… it scares me.” Emma confessed, and she marvelled at how easy it was to say the words. 

“I’m scared too, Emma. There is a good chance you aren’t coming back to me, that some Super Mutant or Yao Guai, or some other horror, is going to kill you and I will never know what happened. I’m afraid of feeling that kind of pain again. I’m afraid that Henry will get hurt if you decide half way through your search that a few days really is too short a timespan to fall in love. I’m scared that you won’t return because you’re scared, or found somewhere better—a place with your parents. I fear for a lot of things as well, you know? We all carry the scars of our past.” Regina confessed, and Emma pulled her closer.

She wished she could set Regina’s mind at ease about any of her fears, but in all honesty, death was an equal possibility to Emma’s emotional insecurity preventing her from returning. Regina could see right through her, Emma knew, and she wasn’t going to lie to the brunette. Sighing, she dropped a kiss onto soft, sweet-smelling, hair, and licked her lips.

“I’m going to try to let you know how I am, and where I am, okay?” She promised—the only thing she _could_ promise in good conscience. “One way or another, I am going to keep you informed about how I am and the progress I’ve made. I know it’s not much but—”

“It’s enough.” Regina finished for her, altering what Emma was going to say. Turning around, Regina regarded Emma for long moments, and Emma tried not to falter under the scrutiny. They were quiet for long moments, then Emma sighed, reaching out for hands wrapped around a mug of rapidly cooking liquids after putting her own mug away.

“I know this sucks…” She started, and Regina snorted, her amusement staving off the tears that had threatened to spill. “…but all I can say now is that I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than here, with you and Henry. I _need_ to find my parents, I need to see if they are still alive… but if I did not have that responsibility, then… then I wouldn’t leave Storybrooke ever again, okay?”

Regina regarded her quietly, and Emma hated the insecurity that bubbled to the surface in the other woman. She wanted to take that away, wanted to be eloquent and know the right words, but if Emma was anything, it was not eloquent, and she had always been terrible with words. 

“Okay.” Regina finally answered, expelling her entire breath with that one word, and Emma smiled a watery smile as she nodded.

“Okay.” She repeated, and the two shared knowing smiles—it fixed nothing, but it was as much of a promise as any Emma could make. It would just have to do, for now. It would have to do until Emma could prove her words true and come back, of her own free will, and in one piece. Emma hoped to God she would.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and feels, smut and feels. NSFW, obviously.

This time, there was no pretence as Emma shut off the lights, Regina locked the door, and both gave a moment’s attention to Pongo before walking the stairs hand in hand. They had one night left—the last for what could be forever—and while they hadn’t addressed that fact during the hour it took them to finish their tea, disassemble and clean Emma’s gun, put it back together, and clean up, they both felt it. 

Emma was tired after two nights spent in the Wasteland getting very little sleep, two near-death experiences, and long hours walking—many of which with a heavy and unruly cart towing behind her—but she didn’t even consider simply going to sleep. She was going to memorize every part of Regina’s body, sear every kiss into her brain and give in to every touch. Possibly, they were making memories to last a lifetime, and the way Regina clung to her hand made Emma aware that she wasn’t the only one feeling the urgency of their actions. She just _had_ to make every single moment count.

They washed up together in the small bathroom, brushing past each other and dropping kisses onto shoulders and necks, allowing hands to linger whenever free. Clean hands, clean mouths, and Emma waited outside for Regina to use the bathroom, then made use of it herself as Regina checked in on Henry one more time. It was almost physically painful to be apart in those few minutes. 

Emma felt on fire, like ants were crawling around under her skin. She couldn’t shake the dread that had started to cling to the edge of her consciousness and it made her itchy, and desperate. She just needed Regina—touching her, being around her—that was the only way to ease her heavy heart and mind. Emma was _too_ aware of the weight placed on the seconds that were eternally ticking away.

They met in the hallway, and smiled a smile to hide the sadness of the coming departure. Emma could see it in the brunette’s eyes, though—a heart, breaking. She vowed to make the older woman forget about all of this tonight, and tried to stop herself from thinking beyond the break of dawn as well. It was easier said than done, but as Regina silently led her into her bedroom, and locked the door, Emma renewed her efforts. 

She gathered Regina in her arms easily, pulling her flush against her as eyes met and seared into each other. Regina fisted her shirt in both hands as she allowed arms to wrap protectively around her. Both swallowed back tears, and Emma quickly pressed on, connecting their lips in an effort to turn the encounter from emotional into sexual. If she lingered on her emotions now, she would break down and cry—possibly for the rest of the night.

Regina’s hands quickly slid up to cup her face and lips parted under hers to admit her tongue. Closing her eyes and hyper aware of every sound from the brunette, of every movement against her, of every taste and every scent, Emma allowed herself to drown in soft caresses of tongue and lips. She held the slightly shorter woman tightly against her in the quiet space and held back a sob at the unfairness of the universe. In her arms, she held everything she had ever wanted—and she was leaving her to chase a ghost. 

“Stop thinking.” Regina breathed against her lips before claiming them again. “Stop thinking.”

There was desperation in Regina’s voice as well, and for a moment, Emma wondered who she had been addressing—Emma or herself. It was good advice, though. She shrugged out of the jacket she had kept on because of the evening chill, and let it drop to the floor, sighing at the way Regina’s hands automatically found strong muscles and traversed her arms. They refused to break their kiss, not even when Emma settled her hands on soft hips and steered the other woman to the bed. They only broke apart when Emma eased Regina down to the bedding, then stood and pulled her top and bra over her head before joining Regina, who had slid herself more firmly onto the bed, eyes sliding over the newly exposed skin. The way Regina licked her lips in desire urged Emma to hurry this first meeting of desires along: she didn’t want to wait, just to feel and be felt in return. 

They had left their shoes behind downstairs, and Emma was grateful for that as she settled herself on top of Regina’s welcoming body, meeting her for another set of increasingly hungry kisses that Regina pushed up into. Hands that were just a touch colder than the skin of her back settled on her, and Emma shivered, marvelling in the contrast of hot and cold and the way Regina’s nails scraped her skin lightly, even as her legs parted to admit Emma between them. She pressed close, leaning down on her forearm next to Regina’s head as they kissed and Emma traversed Regina’s side with strong touches that had Regina arch into her. 

Emma wasn’t trying to be sexy with her body, didn’t try to seduce or play—she wanted to feel, to tangle up and explore. She just wanted Regina’s body under hers, her legs around her waist, her arms clinging to her, and their mouths crashing hard together. She wanted to conquer, claim, and to be claimed in return. Every touch felt like a promise, and Emma was so much better with her hands than with her words.

Regina moaned beautifully into her mouth as Emma cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her dress, and Emma sucked on the tongue forcefully pressed against her own, claiming more intimate contact as her hips started rocking on their own accord. Regina shuddered and fulfilled one of Emma’s wishes by wrapping her legs around her waist, drawing her closer as hands wrapped in her hair and around her shoulders, holding her tight as they connected through a familiar medium: sex. 

They remained intimately locked for long moments, enjoying soft moans that fell from between parted lips, enjoyed shudders that they produced in each other by soft touches and slow kisses. They were never far apart, rising as the other rose, locking together as Regina pushed at her to roll them over. With Regina on top of her, leg to either side of her hips, Emma could slide down the zipper of her dress, exposing the skin of her back to the elements and finding the other woman shivering. 

Abdominal muscles held Regina up as Emma coaxed the dress down toned arms, rising up a little so they wouldn’t have to break apart at all. They were sharing breath like oxygen, like they could recycle their breaths for the other. Before long, Emma was dizzy and panting, and when Regina finally sat up over her and slid off the bra Emma had undone with skilled fingers, both took a deep, shaky, breath. 

Regina was gorgeous, half hidden in the shadows but close enough for Emma to take in firm breasts over a flat stomach, and the way her dress pooled around her waist. The delicate chain with Daniel’s ring on it once more hung around her neck; Henry must have given it back to her when she had put him to bed. Regina’s hair was wild and dishevelled, and dark eyes drilled into hers as Regina pushed up on her knees and pulled up the dress to take off. There was something highly erotic about watching the collected, tidy, and usually picture-perfect woman toss the garment across the room without a single glance to see where and how it landed. Emma swallowed heavily, and slid her hands up strong thighs that were used to walking and standing long hours. For the first time in her life, Emma found herself without anything sexy to say. All that was going through her mind was awe and wonder—and desperation.

“You’re so beautiful…” She whispered softly, and Regina smiled, sliding her hands over Emma’s abdomen to cup her breasts. 

“Kiss me.” Regina whispered darkly, and with a shudder, Emma pushed up to wrap her arms around the older brunette, and met her lips again for a deep kiss that had Regina wrap her fingers in her hair and hold her tightly against her. Regina’s body pressed into Emma’s deliciously, reflecting the same need Emma was feeling, and Emma stopped thinking. 

Another easy roll and Emma settled herself between the brunette’s legs again, sitting up a long moment to undo the button and zipper of her jeans, and kick them off, along with her underwear. A questioning glance and a soft nod later, Regina was also vested of the last of her clothing. Coming together again as Emma sank down into Regina’s waiting arms, Emma felt her herself ignite everywhere her skin touched Regina’s. She revelled in the way the older woman spread herself out to accommodate Emma’s hips between hers, and groaned when she felt the soft press of trimmed, damp, curls against hers. She could already smell Regina in the air, and she _wanted_ her, so very much.

It was her pure desire that loosened her tongue again, and in-between firm kisses, Emma whispered hotly against full lips as she begun to rock her hips gently into Regina’s wet core, causing Emma to shudder, and Regina to gasp.

“How do you do this to me…?” She asked rhetorically in a dark whisper. “Make me want to devour you whole in minutes? It’s as if you set me on fire—and I’ve _been_ on fire a couple of times. I know what that feels like.”

Regina arched into her as Emma took a firm hold of a breasts and pinched the already budded nipple, twisting it between her fingers roughly even as she dipped down to Regina’s exposed neck and sucked, causing Regina to buck into her and gasp. Before Regina could formulate a reply, Emma continued against the shell of her ear after applying a slow swipe of her tongue to the area.

“All I want is to make you come… to hear you try to be quiet again… to feel you strain against me… to make you forget anything but my name…” She added, and Regina gasped.

“Emma…” She husked, and the word was filled with so much desire, Emma rewarded it with another rough pinch of a nipple as she lifted her head to claim the woman’s lips, holding herself up on her forearm, causing the muscles of her upper arm to bulge. Regina’s hand closed around it, digging nails into soft kin and strong muscles below. Regina met her lips hungrily, sloppily, and Emma realized that the other woman wasn’t playing either. Her eyes were shut tight, and she was lost in sensation. Regina didn’t protest a moment as Emma let her hand wander down over a taunt stomach and between her legs. Instead, she unwound her legs from Emma’s waist and set her feet flat on the mattress, knees bent slightly and blinked her eyes open as Emma broke the kiss. Just like a few hours before, they didn’t need foreplay—this _was_ foreplay, meant to fuel the fire for whatever came next. They simply needed to _connect_. Now.

Eyes met as Emma dipped her fingers between wet lips, Emma’s mouth falling open sympathetically as she watched Regina’s jaw fall slack. With her heart thumping in her throat, she grazed Regina’s clit only a moment before sliding down and pressing inside of her with a single digit. Her need to take was too great, the need to feel too much to ignore. Regina arched back fully now, arms falling to her side a moment to grip the sheets before wrapping back around Emma’s neck and holding tight as she brought her hips up against Emma’s hand, taking her deeper.

“Emma…” She gasped again, and this time it was more of a needy sob that had Emma burry her face into the dark haired woman’s neck and linger against her skin as she arranged herself so that she could bear down onto Regina’s thigh as she pressed hers onto the back of her hand, causing her thrusts inside the other woman to become harder, deeper, and causing Regina to utter a long, drawn out, moan that Emma vowed to produce again and again.

Emma slid the arm she had been supporting herself with under Regina’s neck, holding her even closer as she moved her hips lightly, slowly, causing deep but slow-building thrusts inside the woman writhing under her. Emma listened to soft gasps, revelled in the hands in her hair holding her close to Regina’s body, kissing the skin she was all but resting on. They were so close, wrapped up entirely, and Emma wanted to freeze this moment in time forever. Just her, Regina, and pleasure. The feeling intensified and Regina fumbled to press at Emma’s belly, creating space for her hand to slide between Emma’s legs. Emma lifted her hips, slowing her hand a moment, and bore down as Regina cupped her. Soon, Regina’s hand—resting on her own thigh and pressing up between the lips of her throbbing sex—found her clit, and Emma groaned, biting down a moment and causing Regina to shudder. Emma started rocking her hips again, stimulating herself on Regina’s fingers as she increased the speed of her own hand.

“Right there…” Emma encouraged into soft flesh, holding Regina tightly to her as she felt the movement of her hips become more erratic, more desperate, now she was finally getting the stimulations she had been dying for for days now. It felt so good, and she needed it so badly, that she was building towards her own peak at an equal pace as Regina, who was writing under her desperately now. “Fuck, Regina… right there…”

The hand that still had a hold on her hair intensified its grip and Emma winched, the shot of pain adding to her desire in a way that caused her hips to bear forward and her finger to thrust deeply inside Regina. Every single one of their movements built not only their own need, but the other’s as well, and Emma marvelled at kisses in her hair, at quiet groans, at moans spilled from lips the could still feel against her own, even though it had been a while since she had tasted them. She was panting as well, gasping for breath against damp and sweaty skin as even sweatier skin slid together. 

They didn’t talk, didn’t focus on anything but their growing pleasure in the impossible closeness they had created together. Emma’s back was cramping, her legs muscles burning from the effort of pushing her hips up into the brunette below her, but she ignored it all. She forgot about anything but this moment, about the sweat she could taste on Regina’s skin, about the pleasure-filled gasps that tore from the other woman with every slow but building thrust, and with every hard press of Regina’s fingers against her clit—the only part of her sex Regina could realistically reach while in this position. Emma didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to sit up so Regina could enter her as well—all she wanted was to feel this close to the other woman and rock them to orgasm—even if it was slow and sloppy.

Long moments passed in near silence, with trembling touches and brushes over skin. Emma’s hair became matted to her temples and forehead, the skin of her back was sweaty as well. She could feel how easily Regina’s fingers traversed the skin as her hand slid from her hair to her back, and Emma lifted herself up finally, meeting eyes darker than she had ever seen them. Regina licked her lips and Emma slowly leaned down to kiss her, never stopping the movement of her hips. They shared breaths, traded kisses, allowed tongues to crash… and then, with a last peck to Regina’s lips, Emma raised herself up on her forearm and begun to truly rock into her lover’s body, exponentially increasing her pace and causing Regina’s eyes to fall shut with need as a moan tore from her.

“You feel so good…” Regina gasped, forcing her eyes open again and Emma met them, feeling the fire burning in her own eyes. She felt like she was floating, high on her arousal and the desire radiating off of her partner. She couldn’t answer; instead, she dropped her forehead to Regina’s and continued her thrusts. Regina’s free hand slipped over her back, down to her ass, helping her rock and alleviating the tension in her lower back. It was hot, and perfect, and Regina’s fingers still pressed up against her. She could feel Regina’s walls grip her finger and she couldn’t help thinking that if anyone was feeling good, it was Emma herself.

Despite the slow built—or perhaps because of it, Emma couldn’t tell—their orgasms came suddenly. Regina’s nails sunk into her ass, her hips bucking up as much as their closeness allowed, and then strained backwards, tearing their foreheads away from each other. Emma followed her movements, clamping her mouth over Regina’s to silence her as Regina’s walls clamped around her finger and she desperately increased her thrusts to rock herself the last of the way against stilled fingers as Regina gasped for air, her hand moving from Emma’s ass to around her shoulders as she held her close. 

For a moment, Emma saw stars in the silence and she fell back into Regina’s shoulder, shaking as her orgasm overtook her and wiped away everything but this moment, right here, and she drowned in desperation and this feeling in her chest that would not go away—this feeling of dread that once the morning came, her life would never be the same.

Afterwards, Emma sagged through her arm, panting, shivering, as Regina held her silently. She was still out of breath herself, but had recovered quicker, stroking matted hair and sweaty flesh. As Emma slid her finger slowly from inside of her lover, Regina shivered and held her tighter, sliding her hand from between Emma’s legs as well and wrapping it around her as Emma settled on top of her, momentarily spent and choking on her emotions. The lightness that usually came with her orgasm didn’t come; instead, she was overtaken by a darkness that settled in her gut and would not dissolve. Whatever this had been, it hadn’t worked—it had only sky-rocketed her need for the morning to never come—for this to never end.

“Are you alright…?” Regina’s voice was soft, a little flat, and Emma pressed closer to her, hoping that physical intimacy would drive away the emotional distance she felt—a self-imposed distance as despite what they had just shared, her fears overtook her. Regina seemed to sense her rising panic, and simply held her.

“I don’t know.” She answered truthfully. 

“Would you tell me what’s going on inside your head, please?” Regina asked, cupping the back of her head as Emma carefully traced Regina’s cooling skin with soiled fingers. She swallowed, suddenly fighting tears, and if she thought she had felt vulnerable before—after her eye-opener at the apple tree—she was completely ripped open now.

“I don’t want to leave.” She whispered, and if she had been lying anywhere but pressed into Regina’s neck, she doubted the older woman would have heard her.

“You have to, it’s your parents.” Regina told her, sighing and dropping a kiss onto her forehead at the same time. 

“I know, but I’m so scared I won’t make it back.” Emma answered, voicing her biggest fear. “I’m afraid I’ll convince myself that you’ll have moved on, that w-we can’t feel for each other what we feel in so short a time. I am so scared I’ll get… well… scared, and I’ll start running and I won’t be able to turn around and come back. I get so stupid sometimes and I get stuck in my head and—”

“Emma!” Regina’s voice was not so much annoyed as pleading, and Emma fell silent, sitting up as Regina pushed at her. She was unable to meet Regina’s eyes, though. She simply sat cross-legged on the bed and felt so tangled up that she couldn’t even cry. From the corner of her eye, she watched Regina sit up as well and the older woman settled herself lithely around Emma’s back, wrapping her arms and legs around the blonde from behind. They lingered, quietly, for long moments before Regina inhaled softly, exhaled, and inhaled again.

“I have fallen in love with you, and even if you can’t say the words, I know you have fallen for me as well.” Regina whispered against the shell of her ear as she leaned her chin lightly on Emma’s shoulder after pressing a kiss to the sweaty skin she found. Emma tilted her head back and closed her eyes, surrendering to the warmth and safety Regina offered. She didn’t reply, but knew that her silence was confirmation enough.

“If that is not reason enough, I’ll give you another…” Regina added after a long second, and she pulled back her arms and head, forcing Emma to sit up on her own again. She did it with a tired sigh, startling as Regina lifted something over her head and settled it on her chest. Automatically, Emma’s hand came up and it took her only a split second to realize what Regina was hanging around her neck: the chain with Daniel’s ring on it. “There, now it’s _yours_ to keep with you while you travel, and once you have found your parents—one way or another—you must come back to me to bring this back, because it’s very precious to me… as are you, Emma.”

“I can’t take this.” Emma forced out, feeling her resolve breaking and the ball of nerves in her gut untangling at such a speed she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep it together until she was done protesting. She tried to turn around, but Regina’s arms slipped around her stomach again and her chin once more found her shoulder. Emma’s body betrayed her by relaxing into the touch, even though her mind was racing.

“It’s already yours.” Regina told her. “When you leave tomorrow, you have to take it with you, and eventually, it will bring you home to me.”

Regina’s words were spoken with certainty, but Emma knew better: Regina was potentially giving her something she wasn’t going to get back. Emma was a runner, she knew she was. Hell, she’d fought people she had known since childhood in hand-to-hand combat just to get out of the vault! If that wasn’t running, she didn’t know what was. She _wanted_ to come back, but what if the Wasteland erased the memories of this? Of Regina? What if it whispered falsehoods to her in the dead of night, as she sat huddled away in some crack-in-the-wall, that convinced her of her own uselessness and lack of worth? Emma’s head hurt from trying to unify the confidence she usually projected—and sometimes felt—and the fears of a young girl, abandoned again and again.

“You’re too good for me…” She whispered, and Regina’s hold on her tightened. 

“You either have a distorted image of me, of yourself, or both, Miss Swan.” Regina chuckled darkly against her ear. “I am by no means perfect, nor do I not have darkness in my past. I’m just like anyone out here, Emma—trying to survive. Along the way, we all do things we would rather no one knew about. As for you… when I met you, your swagger—for lack of a better term—aroused me. Your skill in the Wasteland is literally legendary, and you have the kindest heart of anyone I have ever met. You are also quite broken, and that makes me feel more at ease about my own shortcomings. You never passed judgement over me and my actions, showing you have an open mind which knows how to prioritize, and you are not put off by my sometimes stand-off-ish behaviour, telling me you are strong of heart. Tell me, Emma: how could I not fall for you?”

Emma listened intently to the words whispered into the darkness, closing her eyes just so she could catch every sound and savour it to counteract the voices that would undoubtedly sneak up on her out in the Wasteland. Indeed, they seared into her brain and heart, and she wrapped her arms tightly around Regina’s, holding her close as she listened.

“You’re too good for me…” She repeated, but this time it was more of a compliment than a self-defeating note of insecurity.

“…and you’re an idiot.” Regina countered easily, a note of amusement to her voice. It took some doing, but Emma managed to open her mouth as she was reminded of their time out in the Wasteland, when she could have already staked this claim.

“True… but I’m your idiot, if you want me to be.” She said softly, heart pounding in her throat, and Regina fell silent a moment. Regina pulled away, causing Emma to flex abdominal muscles to keep seated, but as her eyes opened, she was pressed back onto the mattress, ending up somewhat diagonally and with her feet against a pillow as she stretched out, Regina settling easily into her arms. Dark eyes observed her for long moments and there was a soft smile on Regina’s features.

“That’s exactly what I want, Miss Swan, so you had better bring this back to me soon.” Regina told her, voice light but breaking at the end with emotion Regina was unable or unwilling to show in its entirety as she slid her hand up Emma’s chest to capture the ring between her fingers and played with it lightly. 

“I promise.” Emma answered, and unless she got killed, she felt about 99 percent confident she would actually take the ring back to Regina—that she would be able to convince herself that day in, day out, someone was waiting for her in a little town in the heart of the Capital Wasteland, standing at the gate with an eye to the scope, hoping to spot her though it. That anyone would want that was still hard to believe for the blonde, but she trusted Regina. She trusted her not to lie to her.

“Good…” Regina whispered with a smile, and when she lowered herself to apply a soft kiss to Emma’s lips, Emma sighed into it, cupping a strong jaw and holding her close as she fought tears. Whatever she had done to deserve _this_ , it made it all worth it. It made it worth living through Vault 101, it made it worth the fear she had felt upon emerging from the vault and finding a hostile world on the other end. It made it worth being abandoned again and again, because Regina wasn’t running—she was actively trying to keep Emma with her and that meant _everything_.

Pressing up to deepen the kiss, Regina followed her example easily, flicking her tongue over Emma’s rapidly parting lips. By the second stroke, tongues met, and Emma felt the fire ignite again—not in desperation, but in lightness, in— _oh God, oh God, oh God_ —love. Three nights, four days, and she had fallen in love. Emma, she-who-guarded-her-heart, Swan had fallen in love. She felt silent tears escape the corners of her eyes before she even became aware of her desire to spill them. Regina pulled back at the first sob, but Emma slid her hand firmer into her hair and pulled her down, kissing her hard and deep, trying to convey what was inside of her without the words that always failed her. Regina sighed into her mouth and fell into the kiss, but afterwards, she did pull back a little and refused to let Emma pull her down again, even though her hand was teasing the ribs near Emma’s breast.

“Are you alright, dear?” Regina asked softly against her lips, and Emma opened her eyes, meeting soft dark ones above her. She nodded softly, a watery smile on her lips as her tears refused to stop.

“Yes, I’m good… very good…” Emma whispered awkwardly—emotionally—and Regina smiled fully then, setting Emma’s heart ablaze. This time when she pulled Regina down, the other woman complied easily and they fell into deep kisses that eventually dried Emma’s tears, especially when Regina’s hand slid up over Emma’s chest and she palmed her breast. Emma sighed blissfully, but heard the sigh turn into a moan as Regina captured her nipple between the length of her thumb and forefinger, massaging the flesh even as she rolled her nipple lightly. Right away, Emma ignited fully, fastening the arm Regina had rolled herself upon around the other woman’s waist as she deepened their kiss by pressing up into it, tongue sliding harder against Regina’s.

She traced the skin of Regina’s side lightly and tilted her head to the side when soft lips traced a path down to her neck, giving Regina clear access. Regina’s tongue massaged the pulse-point of her neck and Emma shivered, feeling desire course through her entire body like electricity. Instinctively, she curled into Regina, wrapping her far leg around Regina’s and pushing into her as Regina chuckled lightly. Emma didn’t care, she simply revelled in the emotions and reactions Regina evoked in her and refused to analyse or downplay any of them. She felt good, and loved, and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.

Pulling Regina’s head up again so she could kiss her, Emma moaned deeply into Regina’s mouth as the woman continued her torturous assault of Emma’s breast. Regina was panting lightly, obviously aroused by the chance to bring pleasure to the blonde, and Emma drowned in the sound, feeling entirely precious. She released Regina’s neck as the other woman once more descended and settled herself into Emma’s side a little lower, allowing her to raise herself up over her lover and lean down to envelop Emma’s second nipple with her mouth as the other hand massaged soft flesh.

Emma’s head fell back as she groaned in pleasure, fire sparking through her every time Regina flicked or swirled her tongue around the budding nipple, and extra so when she sucked or scraped teeth over it. By the time Regina switched to the other breast—squeezing the flesh with her hand—Emma was thrashing on the bed, desperate and throbbing. When Regina’s hand slid down from her breast—tangling in soft, wild, curls for long moments to play before dipping lower to lightly rub her clit—Emma parted her legs, opening herself to the brunette and not feeling even a touch insecure or vulnerable.

Rarely did Emma let anyone explore her body and make love to her without at least reciprocating at the same time. Emma was a giver in bed, and much more comfortable that way. It was less scary, she was far less vulnerable, and she felt good about herself when she made her partner come for her… but now, as Regina’s mouth worked diligently—expertly—on her nipple and her fingers slid lower to press inside of her with first one, then two, fingers, Emma surrendered to her entirely. She didn’t try to overtake the brunette, or try to get her off as well; she simply laid back and surrendered to the pleasure Regina pulled from her with every increasingly strong thrust.

There was such beauty in the way Regina took her body with sure fingers, not hesitating or holding back. She seemed to sense the need in Emma, the beauty of her surrender, and the value of her trust. Lips trailed down as Regina curled herself up at Emma’s hip, allowing Emma to free her arm and trace Regina’s curved spine as the continued her soft pressed inside the blonde and slid her tongue between soaked lips. The first time that tongue connected with her clit, Emma jumped, rising up on strong arms as her eyes flew open and she observed the dark head she felt lapping at her cunt. Regina’s shoulder pressed into her abdomen and Emma ran her fingers from one side of her shoulders to the other before tracing Regina’s spine again as the woman lay over her lap in a near-foetal position. It was beautiful, and it felt so, so good.

“Regina…” Emma whispered reverently, and Regina pulled up and away so she could sit up and kiss the blonde with lips and a tongue that tasted of Emma’s wetness. Emma held her close, hips undulating against the fingers still thrusting into her. She pushed her feet into the bedding, allowing her to raise up her hips a little and held on to Regina’s shoulders with a single arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she pressed into the skilful fingers again and again. Regina needed her free arm to hold herself and Emma upright—even though Emma still had one hand firmly behind her back, holding her up and allowing her to rock her hips in this near-seated position—but Emma didn’t need to be held to feel safe. As Regina connected their foreheads, sharing panted breaths, Emma felt tears come on again as she became overwhelmed by pleasure and emotion.

“I love you…” Regina whispered suddenly, conveying such a depth of emotions with three simple words that Emma quickened the motions of her hips, feeling them matched soon by the other woman’s fingers. There was love in those words, surely, and joy, and arousal… but it was impossible to ignore the fear and heartache that lay in them as well. Regina had lost much in life, and that included someone she loved—and admitting she loved again must be as petrifying for her to say, as the words were for Emma to hear.

“I love you…” She answered, unable to say anything else. With the rapport they had built, she simply could not refuse to speak the words. She, too, said them with an ungodly amount of fear, but just saying them out loud solidified the promise she had made to Regina. She _was_ coming back to Storybrooke—to Regina, and to Henry—and she was going to do it as soon as she could. No more meandering, no more messing around. The mission was to find more information about the illusive vault with brainwashing equipment, find her parents, and get back to Storybrooke safely.

Regina kissed her again, and again, and again, and Emma drowned. She allowed her body to crash down to the mattress, and Regina followed her swiftly. Another long kiss, then Regina trailed down to her neck and suckled, licked, bit. Emma groaned, bucking into Regina’s fingers and clawed at her sides, causing Regina to hiss into the skin of her neck. Another hurried movement down, and Regina engulfed a nipple with her mouth, sucking roughly, teasing and tormenting a sensitive nipple as Emma forced her down harder onto the soft flesh with two hands wrapped into Regina’s hair. Regina complied and sucked more of the flesh into her mouth before releasing it and biting down on an aching nipple. Emma cried out, covering her mouth with her hand as soon as she realized it. Regina raised up her head and Emma met twinkling eyes. She knew she had just lost the battle over who would scream first, but she didn’t mind. It had been worth it. 

Regina rearranged them, then, sitting up between Emma’s legs as she pressed a hand to Emma’s lower belly to keep her contained and in place as she deepened her thrusts from the better vantage point. Emma quickly—desperately—gripped the tossed blankets and brought a corner of them to her mouth, biting down into the wool to keep from screaming as pleasure overwhelmed her entirely. These thrusts were far more direct, and Regina had been correct in assuming that Emma would lose control over her actions and try to crawl away, or harder into her, or anywhere, really, if it meant more than this. Her lower body was trapped now, though, and Regina skilfully slid her thumb down wet curls to rub at her clit even as she increased the pace of her staining arm. 

Regina was watching her every move, hanging on to ever sound, and Emma tried to blink her eyes open several times to engage her—she couldn’t. She felt too good, and she needed this too much. Instead, she sunk her nails into wool and arched up, gasped, and surrendered—entirely. The world behind her eyelids lit up like fireflies in the night for long moments as her body shuddered and her orgasm ripped through her. Regina’s fingers didn’t slow a moment, and Emma cried out in a silent scream that pulled the blankets from her mouth. It was perfect, it was _everything_ , and as she crashed to the bed, Emma felt better than she had felt in months—years, maybe. 

Regina sneaked up on her, distracting her by pulling out a single digit and simultaneously sliding down so she could press her lips to Emma’s oversensitive clit. 

“Jesus!” Emma gasped out, eyes flying open and she took in bemused eyes and a lapping tongue. Regina moaned deeply against Emma’s flesh, and Emma allowed her head to fall back down, defeated by the sensations brought forth in her by the brunette. She fastened hands in dark hair but not to guide, just to hold her close. She spread her legs wider to accommodate the brunette splayed between them and where she had been relatively silent before, she now allowed every moan that came to her to fall from her lips. She allowed herself to gasp and plead as Regina reignited the fires in her within minutes. 

The sole remaining finger still firmly inside of her curled deliciously at the height of every thrust and every flick of a tongue on her clit, every scraping of teeth, every pinching of lips and every sucking motion caused Emma to fall deeper and harder into her pleasure. This time, Emma felt her orgasm coming on and could pinpoint the exact moment she topped into it—when Regina sucked the throbbing nerves roughly into her mouth and lapped at them hard and quick. 

Again, Emma strained off of the bed, gasping for breath, trying to keep silent enough that Henry wouldn’t wake but she wasn’t sure if she quite managed that. She was too lost in herself, in Regina, in everything that her body had just been put through. Thankfully, Regina rushed up and covered her mouth with hers, kissing her deeply as her soiled skin spread wetness all over Emma’s face. Emma didn’t mind a second, wrapping a leg and both her arms around the older woman and pulling her close as she gasped and groaned, trying to regain some sort of composure but too elated and overwhelmed to success.

“You are so beautiful… and truly delicious…” Regina purred against her lips, and Emma shivered, burring your face into Regina’s neck in an effort to hide and to get closer. She kissed sweaty skin and held on tight a moment longer before falling limply to the bed, shivering as tiny aftershocks rushed her system. Regina slowly pulled out of her but cupped her sensitive sex, keeping her safe and tethered.

“Fuck…” Emma groaned ineloquently, and once more, her head fell back. Regina chuckled and raised herself up, pecking at her lips and cheeks, at her chin and neck and then back to her lips. By the time they met again, Emma had come down enough to engage her, smiling into a kiss that finally brought her down completely. Regina held her tight, still on top of her, but eventually the older woman slid off so she could press into her side, lying down while she regained control of her breathing as well.

“Indeed…” She answered her belatedly, smiling as she pressed a kiss against Emma’s neck, then trailed down to her clavicle. Emma’s muscles had turned to jelly, lethargy setting in and leaving her smiling like an idiot, shivering a moment when Regina finally removed her hand and trailed a wet line up over her belly. Emma wrapped her arms tighter around the brunette and marvelled at the way they fit together so perfectly, lying completely tangled up. Finally, her heartbeat settled into the range of normal although it still felt three sizes too large with the emotions washing over her.

“I want to stay like this forever…” Emma whispered against tangled hair. “Just you and me, feeling so good, feeling so close to you…”

“I would enjoy that very much, my dear.” Regina answered her without looking up, softly drawing symbols onto the skin of Emma’s belly. “That said, I fear you would get hungry in hours and we would be leaving this bed shortly after to satisfy different cravings.”

As if Emma’s stomach had heard the comment, it rumbled loudly, and both women laughed heartedly, breaking the tension. Emma watched Regina prop her head up on her hand, elbow in the mattress, and grinned up at the brunette.

“You know me too well.” She accused happily, and Regina smiled down at her lovingly in response.

“I feel I do—like I have known you for years.” Regina admitted, and Emma nodded. She felt it too—like they understood each other. They might not know even a few percent of each other’s lives, but they still _knew_ the other—and they were comfortable with that.

“Same.” Emma agreed, and met Regina’s lips in a soft kiss meant to reaffirm the progress made tonight. A few soft pecks, and suddenly Emma found herself yawning, causing another chuckle to fall from the brunette.

“Look who’s the princess now.” She teased, and Emma rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You wore me out, woman… fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life!” She answered, and Regina grinned proudly, biting her lip.

“Speaking of which… you lost.” Regina teased, but there was awe in her voice, not glee.

“Yeah…” Emma answered with a blush, drawing out the word. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, it was hot.” Regina answered darkly, and Emma kissed her again, deeply, trying to remove that smirk from the soft lips against her as well as reward Regina for once again turning her on. It seemed Regina eternally had the power to do that, even when she was entirely sated. 

They didn’t escalate their touches. Instead, they settled under the blankets easily, aware that tomorrow morning—early—Emma would leave. They kept the thoughts at bay with light touches and easy conversation that lasted another hour at least, despite their better intentions. They fell asleep still heavily tangled up; Regina held her from behind, and Emma realized she had never felt more safe, nor more loved, than right in this moment. She drifted off with her hand clasped tightly around Daniel’s ring, knowing it would ensure she came back to the woman who was already asleep behind her. It had to; Emma needed this, more than almost anything in her life.


	10. Chapter 10

When Emma awoke, Regina was already awake. The brunette was watching at her, head propped up on her hand, smiling at the way Emma snuggled into her in the moments between sleeping and waking. Emma realized she had turned around during the night and now they were facing each other, although Emma didn’t want to open her eyes to the first rays of light falling through light curtains. Instead, she just tried to imagine what Regina looked like, going off of how she had found the woman after the first night; beautiful, dishevelled, and intriguing.

“Good morning…” She mumbled, wrapping her arm around Regina’s side and pulling herself closer to the older brunette. Regina wrapped her arm around her as well, dropping kisses onto her hair while Emma settled against her chest.

“Good morning.” Regina answered, and Emma sighed happily. This was most certainly the best wake-up she had experienced in… forever, maybe, except for perhaps a few lazy Sundays near the end of her time in the vault. 

“How long have you been awake?” Emma asked lightly, popping her head from where she had been hiding it and blinking her eyes open to meet loving brown. She tilted her head into a soft peck on softer lips and smiled when Regina chased her back down, kissing her more firmly. Even with morning breath and a slightly sour taste in her mouth, kissing Regina was lovely, and she savoured the experience. Regina, obviously, also didn’t feel like holding back because of a few minor issues like bed hair and bacteria; not when there was a deadline looming.

“Not long, a few minutes.” Regina answered softly, tracing her nails softly over Emma’s back, and the blonde shivered pleasantly, feeling the need to purr and clamping down on the sound desperately. She was okay with appearing soft, but purring would be absolutely mortifying. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

“I _feel_ peaceful.” Emma answered with a blissful sigh, but turned onto her back, regardless. Gathering her courage and steeling her heart, she met Regina’s eyes. “…which is a problem, of course.”

Regina’s face darkened just a little, and the movements of her hand—which had slid from Emma’s back to her tummy as she had turned—stilled. Emma smiled up at her in resignation, and Regina kissed her lightly.

“I know.” She whispered against her lips, and Emma pulled her in a moment longer just so they could kiss for real. They couldn’t draw this out—Emma knew that every moment spent in each other’s presence would make the inevitable goodbye all the more painful, and she needed to prepare herself to engage the Wasteland _before_ she went into it again. Walking around in it with her head in the clouds would kill her in hours—the encounter with the Super Mutant three days ago had been a stark reminder of that. Regina lingered a moment longer, seemingly steeling herself as well, and then pulled back with a sigh. Once more, their eyes met and they nodded almost imperceptibly. They could do this.

“Alright, Savior. Let’s get you out of here.” Regina encouraged her gruffly, and extracted her body from the blonde’s before Emma gathered her courage as well and slid from the bed before Regina could.

“Let me fix you some breakfast for underway while you prepare…?” Regina offered, and Emma nodded, finding her underwear and pants and sliding them on as she desperately tried to turn off her emotions. She focussed on the task ahead, and then on the one after that, taking it one step at the time and feeling her emotions die down as she settled into her routine. She tried not to turn around as she heard the door unlock, but she still turned her head to catch a glimpse of Regina slipping out, bare feet, but clad in jeans and the dark vest Emma had met her in. She sighed, feeling a stab to her heart, but turned back around to pick up and put on her bra and then her shirt. She reminded herself of her parents, of her mission, of every bit of evidence she had of them. She focussed on what she had to do and not what she was leaving behind in order to do it. 

It worked.

By the time she left Regina’s bedroom—something that made leaving easier all on its own; the room held too many memories—and made it back to her barely used guest room, Emma felt stronger. Slipping on her bullet proof vest and then the jacket she had picked off of the bedroom floor tethered her. She was dressing for survival—for combat—and that required perfect focus. She could recall the feeling of being eternally on high alert that had become second nature, and only realized now how _settled_ she had become as she had allowed Regina into her heart. 

It was shocking how far her walls had come down, and raising them again was much harder than she had expected. She needed every tool, needed to perform every trick, in order to get herself back to her previous level of hardness—of detachment. By the time she brushed her teeth and ran damp fingers through her hair to style it slightly, she realized that her best took was Regina, and the chain around her neck. She fingered the golden band and allowed it to remind her of the ultimate truth: in order to come back to the brunette, she needed to stay alive. To stay alive, she needed to put all thoughts and feeling about Regina out of her mind and heart.

With that, her old emotional armour slid in place with an almost audible click. Emma felt her shoulders go down, her heart rate lower, and her jaw set. She felt like taking out Radscorpions, like scanning her surroundings with every step, like drowning in the quiet Wasteland that had been her reluctant home for so long. She could do this. A few moments, she settled her hands on the sink, took calming breaths, and then pushed off, reading to do what she had to do so she could come back to Regina as soon as she could.

She made it three steps down the stairs when she realized she was forgetting someone too important to forget: a little boy in his bed, about to be abandoned by someone he had grown attached to. She couldn’t just disappear and leave him to discover he had slept through her departure: she had to say goodbye to Henry, no matter how hard it was for him… and Emma herself.

With a sigh, Emma turned around and headed back up, lingering in front of the door to Henry’s bedroom a few moments until she felt steady enough to do what she had to: do to Henry what her parents had done to her. It wasn’t the same, she knew, but it sure _felt_ the same. 

She knocked softly, then entered the dark room without waiting for a reply. A small form stirred in bed, and rolled over with a soft groan. Emma’s heart clenched dangerously; like his mother, Henry had easily wormed his way into her heart. His positive attitude, sharp mind, and similar sense of humour had made him easy to get along with. She didn’t feel like his mother, but she felt like she had become his friend.

“…mom…?” He asked sleepily, not opening his eyes.

“Not exactly, kid.” Emma said with a chuckle, and a smile that widened as Henry shot up and tried to blink open his eyes, rubbing at them to hurry the effort along. Henry obviously was not a morning person, and Emma was reminded of herself while she still lived in the vault; if left alone, she would sometimes stay in bed until after noon.

“Emma…? What’s wrong?” Henry asked, drawing her back to the present, and Emma finally stepped closer, sitting herself down on the edge of the bed after asking permission to. Henry shuffled to the side to admit her, and finally took in her appearance, lingering on the vest around her chest, which proudly bore the numbers ‘101’ in gold. Emma didn’t have to explain what was going on; she could almost see the puzzle pieces coming together in his young mind. “You’re leaving…”

“Yeah, it’s time.” She answered softly, giving him a sad smile as she lay her hand on his knee. She could see tears forming in his eyes, and felt her walls crack easily. She had been much younger than Henry when her parents had abandoned her, but she could just imagine her parents looking down at her and feeling their hearts breaking. How they had been able to do it was beyond her, and now more than ever, she could not phantom what reason was good enough to abandon an infant child. 

Henry was mature for his age, and had been through a lot. Growing up in the Wasteland meant you grew up quickly, Emma had learned. He looked young now, though, and she wasn’t surprised when he started crying for real, sniffling as tears welled up and spilled over his cheeks. Emma fought her own tears; she wasn’t allowed to break down. Not now, not with Henry. She needed to be the adult here, even though it was a role she didn’t often take up voluntarily. She swallowed heavily and opened her arms. It took only moments for Henry to rise up and crawl into them, flinging his small arms around her neck and burying his head into her chest as she wrapped her arms around him, instinctively pulling him close. She felt herself rocking the young boy a little and she allowed herself to drop a kiss onto his head. 

“I don’t want to go, but I have to find my parents. Henry? I am going to try everything I can— _everything_ —to come back. I want to come back to you, and to your mom, very much. Please listen to me: if I do not make it back to you guys, it’s because I am dead. There is nothing else keeping me from you and your mom, okay? Nothing. See, your mom has given me her necklace—that’s going to bring me back.” She vowed softly but solemnly into his hair, and he nodded, sniffling as he pulled her closer, hand closing around the ring she had pulled from under her vest. She knew he was aware of the dangers she would be facing and she didn’t want to make promises she couldn’t keep, but she didn’t want him worrying about her safety, either. Pushing at him a little, she extracted the boy from her chest, and he finally met her eyes, still crying.

“I know you’re scared I’m going to die. I know your dad died… but I’m the Savior, okay? I’m the one who disarmed the bomb in Megaton. I fought through an army of Super Mutants to repair the dish that carries the Galaxy News Radio signal through the Wasteland. I helped _write_ the Wasteland Survival Guide. I can _do_ this, okay? I can survive the Wasteland and get back to you and your mom. Until I do, I need you to do something for me, though.” She impressed upon him, and he nodded.

“Okay, what?” He asked, and she smiled, ruffling his hair.

“That’s good, kid. Okay, I need you to be strong for your mom, okay? I know she’s sad as well, and scared. You can help her by reminding her—and yourself—that I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She said, and he smiled through his drying tears, nodding solemnly. She watched him straighten his back, and nodded in return. “That’s it, kid. Now promise me. Promise me you’ll believe I’ll come back either until I do, or until you hear I’m dead.”

“I promise, Emma.” He said solemnly, and Emma smiled, pulling him close again, kissing the top of his head. He held on to her tightly, and they sat in silence for a good few moments.

“Love you, kid.” She whispered into his hair, knowing that that was the only thing she wanted to hear from her own parents. She wasn’t his mom, but she was the adult who had captured his mom’s heart. She qualified. Henry snuggled harder into her. 

“Love you, too…” He said proudly, and Emma felt tears prick against the back of her eyes. She couldn’t stay here much longer, not like this, not this emotional. She needed to go, get her walls up, get ready for the Wasteland. This conversation was starting to remind her of what she was leaving behind—family—and she couldn’t afford that.

“Okay, enough of this. You need to get back to bed, and I need to go so I can get back to you as soon as possible, okay?” She said, reeling herself in but making sure to keep her voice calm and accepting of his love. He sat up instantly.

“No.” He stated, and Emma arched a brow as she let go of the wiggling boy, trying to get off of her lap. She watched him as he rushed through his room, sitting down next to his desk where his shoes were sitting neatly next to each other.

“No?” She asked bemusedly as she watched him tie one shoe, then the other.

“No, I’m coming with you to say goodbye.” He told her, and she smiled proudly. She couldn’t deny him this, and his determination was strengthening. It reminded her that he was a strong boy, a good kid, and he was going to be okay even if she never made it back.

“Okay.” She told him, indulgently, and he grinned. He stood proudly in his boots and PJ’s, and Emma seared the image into her brain. It was too cute to forget. Standing herself, she reached out to him, and he came to her easily, letting her wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him close a moment. “Let’s do this.”

They walked downstairs together after gathering Emma’s bag and weapons from her room. Henry carried her sword and gun while Emma lugged the heavy bag down the stairs. Henry was chatting merrily again, and Emma didn’t feel the need to warn Regina of their arrival as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. Besides, she felt wholly accepted into the family now; her sudden appearance would no longer earn her a bullet to the chest. The thought made her smile, although her emotional resolve faltered when she took in the scene in the kitchen.

Pongo was eating breakfast from a bowl near Regina’s booted feet. Regina was wrapping up a package of foodstuffs carefully, and even without turning around, Emma was reminded of her beauty and the connection they shared. Right away, her determination faltered, especially as she took in the care with which Regina had put her boots near the chair she had occupied that first evening, socks dangling from the backs of them, and her knife lying on the table above. It was such a domestic gesture—especially when Regina set the package of foodstuffs next to the blade—that she once again realized she was crazy for leaving it behind. If Gold’s warning about her parents wasn’t on repeat in her mind, she would have abandoned her search altogether, she realized. It was only the thought of her parents mindlessly wandering around a vault or the Wasteland that kept up her resolve to leave.

“Alright, I packed you breakfast and lunch, and added some—oh! Henry! What are you doing up?” Regina asked, startled to find her son under Emma’s wing.

“I woke him to say goodbye, and he wanted to come to the gate with us.” Emma answered smoothly, meeting Regina’s eyes, which softened instantly. She smiled and nodded, shifting her eyes to Henry.

“Well alright, then.” Regina agreed, and they stood awkwardly in the kitchen a moment, until Emma held out her free arm. With a shuddering sigh, Regina stepped closer and easily slid in to the hug Emma offered her, happy to be allowed this small weakness. The three of them stood silently together for long moments, and Emma took in everything she could. This was what she would be fighting for out there. This was it, right here. In the Wasteland, time didn’t matter; if you found a good thing, you went for it. She was so relieved she had allowed herself to give in to her emotions and had built up what were undoubtedly two of the best relationships in her life. She had been wrong before, thinking a relationship weakened you—having something to come back to was the best motivator to stay alive.

She pressed a final kiss to Regina’s hair and then let her go, unwrapping her arm from the brunette’s shoulders. With Henry still pressed between them, Regina kissed her, softly, and a single tear escaped the corner of Regina’s eye. Emma saw it only when she pulled back, and with a gentle smile, she wiped it away, causing the brunette to lean into her. They didn’t need words to express what was going through their heads and hearts—they knew. They were both feeling it. Emma suddenly was glad for Henry’s presence, because he kept the both of them from breaking down. They couldn’t put that kind of weight on a kid. 

“It’ll be okay.” Emma promised, and Regina nodded.

“It’ll be okay.” Regina echoed, shakily. 

“Thank you for the food, princess.” Emma added with a strengthening smile, feeling the need to show she could be strong for the both of them—the three of them. If she could show them she was strong now, she hoped they would remember that for when she was gone. She had a family to take care of now, and she felt the weight of that burden—that blessing—strengthen her.

“You’re welcome, Savior.” Regina answered, and Emma realized that it was okay—that everything would, indeed, be okay. She was going to leave, and she was going to come back, and then she would never leave again for more than a quick trip out. 

After packing Emma’s bag, talking about little things like the comic book pages Henry was still missing and the best way to cook Molerat meat over an open fire, the three of them headed out together, Pongo happily bouncing around them as he followed along. No one thought to keep him from coming with them—the dog belonged to the family unit now. With her weapons strapped to her back, slung over her shoulder, and tugged into her boot, Emma felt ready to head out. She felt strong, focussed, and self-assured. She could face the Wasteland and survive.

The young, blonde, woman at the wall watched them walk over and slid the gate open before they even arrived. She nodded at the three of them, realizing what was about to happen, and licked her lips a little nervously.

“Hey Regina, Emma, Henry… I’ll uh… give you some time alone. Come find me when you’re done? I’ll be at the diner.” The woman said, and Regina nodded.

“Thank you, Ashley, I appreciate it.” Regina answered, and Ashley smiled, abandoning her post. Emma watched her go before turning to Regina and Henry, who stood huddled close together. Again, she engraved a scene into her mind, hand reaching for the chain around her neck and pulling it out a moment to touch the ring. Already, she could tell the talisman would get her through a lot of lonely nights.

“I love you.” She said, meeting both sets of eyes, and both smiled sadly. 

“We love you, too, Emma. Now go. Find your parents. Come back to us.” Regina told her, voice strong but filled with the promise of a break-down. Emma nodded. She turned around, stuffing the ring back under her vest. Before she had fully turned, though, she turned back around. “Remember your promise, Henry.” 

Henry nodded, and she smiled at him for a long moment. With a heavy heart, she turned around fully, pain settling into her heart as she looking up over the slowly lightening Wasteland. It was so empty, and seemed so cold now she knew what warmth was. She wasn’t looking forward to the loneliness. She still forced her feet to move. One step, two steps… by step three, it became easier, as if the elastic tether between her and the people watching her go fell slack instead of stretching more taunt. She was still fighting tears every step of the way as she forced herself to grab her shotgun and not turn around. 

It was a loud bark that shook her from her anguish, and she almost emptied her weapon into Pongo as he suddenly bumped into her legs from behind. She spun, heart in her throat, and lifted up the gun she had brought down on instinct. 

“Pongo! What the hell are you doing here?! Why aren’t you with your family?” She asked angrily, but also infinitely amused—after all, it was the pot calling the kettle black. She met Regina’s eyes as she looked back. There was a good bit of distance between her and Storybrooke already, but as Regina raised her voice it carried well enough over the Wasteland flats.

“He wants to come with you!” Regina called out, and Emma nodded, pulling Pongo into her legs a moment.

“Are you sure, boy? It’s not exactly good living out here?” Emma asked, and Pongo whined, pressing closer to her. She sighed and looked back one more time. Straightening out, she waved once at the figures watching her. Both waved back, and she smiled. “Alright then, you idiot. Let’s go and get back soon.” 

Turning back to the Wasteland again, Emma took a steadying breath. She forgot about the people watching her walk off, focussing solely on the Wasteland ahead of her and the mission she was undertaking. Find her parents, come back, live happily ever after. Stay alive. Those were her goals now, and with Pongo by her side, she felt even surer she would be able to complete them.

 

\---

EPILOGUE

Even after two weeks, the house still felt empty. How a single person could change the way a house _felt_ in eighty-seven hours—of which she had not been in it for more than twenty-four—was beyond Regina Mills. She still found herself looking around for the blonde woman every time she entered, and waking up alone was so daunting every morning that she never lingered in bed. More than once, she had found herself reaching out for the other woman and had found the other side of the bed surprisingly empty—and that only after one full night spent in it together. 

The first three days or so, Regina had held out the secret hope that Emma would come back right away—that she had made it a day, or two days, into the Wasteland and had realized she had made a mistake. It was a selfish thought, but she had not been able to keep it from her mind. She would be lying if she said that the realization that Emma had, indeed, truly _left_ hadn’t hurt her a little, even though she had encouraged her to go herself.

Inadvertently, Henry had been the one to shake her out of her gloomy thoughts. He talked about Emma a lot, and the way he had taken to the blonde had become yet another way in which her son and her had become closer. Listening to Three Dog on the small radio set inspired him, although she was terrified he would one day catch a report of Emma’s death. There weren’t any new reports on Emma’s progress, but the old ones had become very valuable to Henry; he never doubted that she would come back, and during dinner, he had talked about why she had left—that Emma had to go and find her parents, because if she didn’t, she would never be able to be fully happy. She would always wonder about what had happened to them and be sad—like they were now Emma was gone. It was such a good explanation that she had realized her desire to keep Emma with her would have actually been detrimental to their relationship. After that dinner, she had gladly let Emma go, and simply waited for her return—whenever that would be.

Life returned to normal quicker than she had expected it to. By the following day, she had assumed her duties again—guard duty, inventory, gardening, and taking care of Henry chief amongst them. She’d gone on raids for food and other daily necessities, and by the end of the first week, she had spent a friendly evening with Ruby, Kathryn, and Ashley in the diner, drinking to life and love, and the curveballs both threw at you. Ruby was a strong and vibrant woman, and while Regina still caught hints of sadness from her every now and again, they settled into friendship easily—far more easily than Regina would have been able to do, had the roles been reversed.

When alone, Regina struggled. She did not want to define the value of her life by her love life, but she still found herself thinking of Emma far too often. She invaded her thoughts whenever Regina walked into the house, or the kitchen, or her bathroom. She still hadn’t replaced the blankets in the guest room, because they smelled vaguely of Emma. Her own bedroom was invaded by the blonde. Emma lingered in her house, but also the town beyond—the clock tower under which Emma had kissed her, the diner where they had eaten together, Gold’s shop which they had visited together. Whenever Regina was on guard duty, she found herself searching the horizon for a red dot, sometimes neglecting sweeps of the nearby area. It hadn’t led to incidents yet, but Regina realized she had it bad.

Regina vowed that today, she would get through her four hour guard shift without getting caught up in spotting Emma. It was a vow she knew she would keep easily for the remaining hour of her time in the quiet home she now shared solely with her son, but experience told her that she would stretch the boundaries of her vow once she was actually out by the gate, eye to the scope. Even now, it was hard to keep her mind on the cleaning she was doing and not wish for the blonde to burst through the door. She shook her head at her own treacherous thoughts, wishing Henry was here to provide a distraction.

Unfortunately, Henry was at ‘school’; the youngsters generally attended at least three mornings in Belle’s care, who taught lessons five out of seven weekdays. Today, it had just been Henry, and Ava and Nicholas Zimmer. Henry liked both, bonding easily with the quieter Nicholas and being drawn from his usually introvert behaviour by the far more outgoing older girl. Regina had left her son in Belle’s care easily, but a few hours later, the silence in the house was becoming too much to bear. Silently, she eyed the radio, weighing the pros and cons of turning it on.

Even before Emma’s arrival, Regina had rarely turned on Galaxy News Radio. Three Dog’s eternally excited radio messages annoyed her and drew her from her thoughts, and she preferred Agatha’s classical music station when she allowed herself to listen to music at all. Today, however, distraction seemed to be exactly what she needed, and she could already predict that Agatha’s violin recordings would annoy her. With a frustrated sigh at her own behaviour and treacherous thoughts, Regina threw the cleaning rag on the coffee table and headed to the radio. She clicked it on and turned the knobs until the youngster channel came into clear focus. Right away, Three Dog’s howl reached her ears and she groaned. Perhaps this was a bad idea, after all.

Settling into Billie Holiday's 'Crazy He Calls Me', Regina had to laugh at herself again. It seemed even the radio was mocking her dependency on a woman she hardly knew but had fallen for completely by playing a song about a woman so in love with her man that she would move mountains for him, if asked. Shaking her head, she once more took up the cleaning rag and begun to wipe down the windowsills as the soft tones washed over her. 

The song ended and was replaced by Danny Kay's 'Civilization', to which Regina found herself humming along, singing 'bongo, bongo, bongo, I don't want to leave the Congo, oh no-no-no-no-no…' under her breath as she allowed the happy tune to drown out her melancholy. Just fifty more minutes and she would finally be distracted by her responsibilities at the gate. She could make it fifty more minutes.

Regina groaned when the song cut out and Three Dog once more came on the air. That man truly was the worst part of the radio station, and he was far too in love with the sound of his own voice. This time, though, his words peaked her interest and she straightened, abandoning the cloth on the sill.

 _“Because one dog ain't enough, and two is too low, it's me, Three Dog! How you kids handlin' Post-Apocalyptia today? Have I got news for you, Wastelanders! I’m sure you remember the cat who crawled out of Vault 101? Well, it seems she’s still alive, and still searching for her parents, but along the way, our little Savior has found something else: love. Say it with me, you disillusioned little shits: ‘awwwwwww’. Yeah, that’s right, I hold here in my hands a note passed along by merchants and traders from the Savior to dear old me.”_ Three Dog announced the news as if it was another song announcement, or mention of his own brilliance, but to Regina, the words hit like bricks. 

She found herself hurrying to the chair near the radio, sitting down and turning up the sound with a shaking hand as her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth went dry. Emma was alive. Emma was alive and she had found a way to let Regina know. The sob that tore through Regina’s frame at that information was impossible to contain, and since she was alone in her far-too-large mansion, she allowed the tears to come. Even this belated sign of life was more than she could had hoped for, and she realized how starved she was for it—how scared she had been about Emma’s safety. In the quiet of her home, Regina finally admitted to herself that—despite everything that had been said and promised—Regina had still be petrified by the thought that Emma would forget about her somehow once she got out into the Wasteland and alone with her thoughts. Hearing Three Dog state that Emma had gone out of her way to get this message to him—and this obvious declaration at that—settled her heart in such a way that Regina felt like she was floating on cloud nine.

 _“…it seems our hope in dark days has given her heart to one of you cats out there—and having seen the Savior with my own two eyes, let me be the first to congratulate you, you horndog. Now, listen up because she would like me to play this lucky person a song, because—and I quote—‘she’s not good with words’. Well, then, truer words have never been spoken, ey? So, of course I’m gonna play cupid and play your song, Savior. I hope you find your way to your sweetheart soon, because the big man in the sky knows we could all use a little somethin’-something’ every now and again, amirite? OWWWWWWWWW!”_ With that final howl, Three Dog’s voice fell away, and soft tones replaced it, leaving Regina breathless as she recognised the song: ‘Way Back Home’ by Bob Crosby  & The Bob Cats.

She felt her tears increasing as she listened to softly cooed words of a song that was undoubtedly a love song, drowning in the quit admission of _‘don't know why I left the homestead, I really must confess. I'm a weary exile, singing my song of loneliness...'_. Her heart broke for Emma, whom she often pictured huddled away against the cold, barely sleeping, and out in the wilderness alone, clasping her shotgun. Every night before she fell asleep, she prayed Emma had found a bed somewhere, or at least safety and shelter, but more often than not, she was afraid this was not the case. She had been surprised when Pongo had rushed after the blonde, but picturing the two of them together helped ease her worries a little.

Regina leaned back in her chair, smiling as the song entered the final verses. The main message was clear: Emma considered Storybrooke, Henry, and herself her _home_ , and she would return. Soon—as soon as she could—and Regina would hold on to that promise forever if she had to, because without Emma, she no longer felt at home in Storybrooke either; not without the blonde Savior who had come into her life so suddenly and who had taken her heart upon departure. 

She listened carefully to the last few words, engraving them in her mind and heart, and stood on steadier legs, resolving to stay strong in the time that remained. She vowed to listen to the radio more often in case of more messages, and today, she would not fall into the trap of mindlessly trying to spot Emma. She was going to live her life, built a home, and when Emma returned, it would be ready for her—as if she had never left—and this time, her love would not end like with Daniel: Emma was the Savior, and she _was_ coming home.

  
_The food is the spreadiest, the wine is the headiest_   
_The pals are the readiest, the gals are the steadiest_   
_The love the liveliest, the life the loveliest_   
_Way back, way back, way back home_   
  
_Sweet home_   


**Author's Note:**

> That's it! the end of _Way Back Home_. Thank you for reading, for your kudos, and for your wonderful comments! They mean the world. It was a lovely story to write and I hope you have all enjoyed the ride.


End file.
